knows what happened. Not much more to it than that.”
“There’s always more to it than that. When a person disappears, you should really take a closer look at the person. For example, was he well liked?”
“You know good and well he was the orneriest man in town.”
“Hmm. So, no one liked him?”
“You know they didn’t.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Including Marie?”
Gertie huffed. “I expect Marie had her hands full.”
“I don’t want to know what you expect. I want to know if Marie liked her husband.”
There was dead silence for a long time, and I looked back and forth from Gertie to Deputy LeBlanc. The tension was thicker than the banana pudding Francine slid in front of me, and I couldn’t help but notice that as soon as she placed the last bowl on the table, she took off for the kitchen as if there was a fire that needed attending.
“I already said no one liked him,” Gertie said finally.
Deputy LeBlanc nodded. “He inherited oil wells from his parents, right? So that means Marie came into quite a comfortable living when he didn’t turn up.”
“I don’t ask people about their finances. It’s rude.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “Did she offer the information?”
“No,” Gertie snapped at him. “Marie never told me about her finances. Are you satisfied? Because you’re ruining my Sunday dinner.”
He studied her for a couple of seconds, then nodded. “I’m done for now, but I may be by later after I study those case files again. If I have any more questions, that is.”
He looked over at me and nodded. “Ma’am,” he said and strolled out of the restaurant.
“What the hell was that about?” I asked. “You could have drowned a herd of elephants in the undercurrent between the two of you.”
“He knows I won’t lie on Sunday. I tried to dance around the questions, but he still managed to get some information out of me.”
I nodded, now understanding Gertie’s less-than-direct answers. “So, how much money did Harvey have?”
Gertie cocked her head. “Now, you just heard me say Marie didn’t tell me about her finances.”
“I know, but I figure someone else did.”
She laughed. “It’s a good thing Carter isn’t as shrewd as you are.”
“So you do know?”
“Of course. Marie told Marge and Marge told me and Ida Belle. Harvey sold those oil wells years ago, and his parents owned a ton of real estate, but as soon as he was officially declared dead, Marie got control of everything—all ten and a half million.”
“Holy shit!”
Gertie popped me with her napkin. “No biblical cursing on Sundays.”
“Ouch,” I rubbed the red spot on my forearm. She must have been hell as a high school teacher. “Ten million is a lot of reasons to want a jackass dead. Is that why you think she killed him?”
“That and another reason, but I won’t talk about it. I have to discuss it with the society ladies. We have to plan how to handle this before it gets out of control.”
She waved a hand toward the window. “Here they come now.”
I looked outside and saw a crowd of gray-haired women bearing down on the restaurant.
Sixteen of them, probably from the Jurassic period. Fourteen wearing glasses and seven with hip replacements. Based on skin tone, high blood pressure was running rampant.
“Why don’t any of your husbands come to church?” I asked. “Or is that some kind of rule, too?”
Gertie waved a hand in dismissal. “You can’t be a member of the Sinful Ladies Society if you have a husband. The original members, like me, are all old maids. We’re finally starting to allow widows in, but their husbands have to be dead for at least ten years.”
“Why ten years?”
“Seems to take that long to deprogram them from silly man thinking.”
“So Marie’s not a member?”
“Not yet, but she can petition in another five years.”
“If she’s not in prison.”
“That’s not going to happen,” Gertie said, and although her voice
“There’s always more to it than that. When a person disappears, you should really take a closer look at the person. For example, was he well liked?”
“You know good and well he was the orneriest man in town.”
“Hmm. So, no one liked him?”
“You know they didn’t.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Including Marie?”
Gertie huffed. “I expect Marie had her hands full.”
“I don’t want to know what you expect. I want to know if Marie liked her husband.”
There was dead silence for a long time, and I looked back and forth from Gertie to Deputy LeBlanc. The tension was thicker than the banana pudding Francine slid in front of me, and I couldn’t help but notice that as soon as she placed the last bowl on the table, she took off for the kitchen as if there was a fire that needed attending.
“I already said no one liked him,” Gertie said finally.
Deputy LeBlanc nodded. “He inherited oil wells from his parents, right? So that means Marie came into quite a comfortable living when he didn’t turn up.”
“I don’t ask people about their finances. It’s rude.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “Did she offer the information?”
“No,” Gertie snapped at him. “Marie never told me about her finances. Are you satisfied? Because you’re ruining my Sunday dinner.”
He studied her for a couple of seconds, then nodded. “I’m done for now, but I may be by later after I study those case files again. If I have any more questions, that is.”
He looked over at me and nodded. “Ma’am,” he said and strolled out of the restaurant.
“What the hell was that about?” I asked. “You could have drowned a herd of elephants in the undercurrent between the two of you.”
“He knows I won’t lie on Sunday. I tried to dance around the questions, but he still managed to get some information out of me.”
I nodded, now understanding Gertie’s less-than-direct answers. “So, how much money did Harvey have?”
Gertie cocked her head. “Now, you just heard me say Marie didn’t tell me about her finances.”
“I know, but I figure someone else did.”
She laughed. “It’s a good thing Carter isn’t as shrewd as you are.”
“So you do know?”
“Of course. Marie told Marge and Marge told me and Ida Belle. Harvey sold those oil wells years ago, and his parents owned a ton of real estate, but as soon as he was officially declared dead, Marie got control of everything—all ten and a half million.”
“Holy shit!”
Gertie popped me with her napkin. “No biblical cursing on Sundays.”
“Ouch,” I rubbed the red spot on my forearm. She must have been hell as a high school teacher. “Ten million is a lot of reasons to want a jackass dead. Is that why you think she killed him?”
“That and another reason, but I won’t talk about it. I have to discuss it with the society ladies. We have to plan how to handle this before it gets out of control.”
She waved a hand toward the window. “Here they come now.”
I looked outside and saw a crowd of gray-haired women bearing down on the restaurant.
Sixteen of them, probably from the Jurassic period. Fourteen wearing glasses and seven with hip replacements. Based on skin tone, high blood pressure was running rampant.
“Why don’t any of your husbands come to church?” I asked. “Or is that some kind of rule, too?”
Gertie waved a hand in dismissal. “You can’t be a member of the Sinful Ladies Society if you have a husband. The original members, like me, are all old maids. We’re finally starting to allow widows in, but their husbands have to be dead for at least ten years.”
“Why ten years?”
“Seems to take that long to deprogram them from silly man thinking.”
“So Marie’s not a member?”
“Not yet, but she can petition in another five years.”
“If she’s not in prison.”
“That’s not going to happen,” Gertie said, and although her voice
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