Louisiana Longshot (A Miss Fortune Mystery, Book 1) by Jana DeLeon Page A

sounded confident, her expression gave her away completely. Gertie was worried.
    Ida Belle plunked down in the chair next to me and gave Gertie a high five. “Good job beating the Catholics to the ringer,” she said as she smiled down at the huge bowl of banana pudding on the table in front of her. “I’ll bet Celia’s kicking herself for buying those expensive shoes.”
    “If she’s not kicking herself now,” Gertie said, “she will be later when she looks at that bill and has no banana pudding.”
    Ida Belle nodded, then looked down the table. “It’s time to remember our manners. Everyone, this is Marge Boudreaux’s niece. She’s the reason you all have banana pudding today, so remember to say a special prayer of thanks for her tonight.”
    The ladies broke out in a round of enthusiastic applause. Across the café in the corner, Celia and her crew turned to glare.
    “What’s your name, hon?” one of the little old ladies asked. “I want to make sure I get the right name to God.”
    “Her name is Sandy-Sue,” Ida Belle said.
    I cringed and my back stiffened from my butt cheeks all the way up to my neck. “Actually,” I said before I could change my mind, “everyone’s always called me Fortune.”
    “Really?” Gertie said. “Why?”
    “Well…” I fidgeted in my chair, trying to think up something that worked besides the truth. Telling them it was short for “soldier of fortune”—due to my mercenary tendencies—probably wouldn’t project the right image.  
    “It’s okay, dear,” Gertie said. “I don’t want to embarrass you.”
    A light bulb popped on. “That’s okay. It was something my mother called me. She used to always say I was going to be worth a fortune someday—you know, with the beauty pageants and such. She really expected me to be an actress or model. I guess the nickname just stuck, and now, I’m not used to answering to anything else.”  
    I was shocked at how easily those lies rolled off my tongue. I hadn’t even come close to retching despite the fact that I’d used “beauty pageant,” “actress,” and “model” in the same delivery. But even more shocking was the ladies’ reactions. No one looked even remotely surprised at my expected success based on beauty. They just nodded and smiled like it was the most natural thing in the world.
    An optometrist could make a killing in this place.
    “How come Francine hasn’t brought the list of specials over yet?” Ida Belle asked. “Is she drinking again?”  
    Ida Belle craned her neck to look over Gertie into the kitchen. Gertie dropped her gaze to the table, not saying a word.
    “I don’t know anything about the drinking part, although I’m not opposed,” I said, “but she probably held back since Deputy LeBlanc was over here grilling Gertie about your friend Marie.”
    The ladies went instantly quiet and stared at me. I hadn’t commanded this much attention since I’d stolen that drug lord’s golden retriever.  
    “Carter was in here?” Ida Belle asked.
    I nodded. “Asking if Marie liked her husband and how much money she inherited—”
    Ida Belle’s eyes narrowed. “What did you tell him?” she whispered to Gertie.
    Gertie paled and bit her lower lip.  
    “She didn’t tell him anything,” I volunteered. “She worked around everything except what he already knew, and did a good job of it being that she has that whole lying-on-Sunday rule.”
    Ida Belle frowned. “Which Carter is well aware of.”
    “So, is anyone going to tell me exactly what I stepped in the middle of yesterday?” I asked. The more information I could get, the better situated I’d be to avoid the entire mess.
    Ida Belle glanced at the other ladies and shook her head. “Now’s not the time or place.” She lifted her hand to wave at Francine, who hovered in the kitchen doorway. “We’re ready when you are, Francine,” Ida Belle called out.
    The other ladies immediately launched back into the conversations