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

they’d been having before my announcement. Gertie looked over at Ida Belle and opened her mouth to say something, but the tiny shake of Ida Belle’s head made her clam right back up.  
    But was it because of the other ladies or me?

Chapter Six

    The rest of lunch was completely uneventful. All of the ladies split immediately after, claiming knitting, letter writing, and book reading that needed to be done before they returned for evening church service, but I had the sneaking suspicion they might be secretly meeting up to discuss the whole Marie situation.  
    I was happy to be left out of it all, so I waddled home after consuming chicken-fried steak, mashed potatoes with cream gravy, something called “fried okra,” God knows how many dinner rolls, and a big bowl of the best banana pudding I’ve ever had in my life. Gertie had promptly pointed out that compared with the refrigerated, whipped cream stuff I’d eaten before, it was the only banana pudding I’d ever had in my life.  
    Regardless, I hoped I wouldn’t be in Sinful for very long. That sprint from the church to the café in no way covered the calories consumed. In fact, I might have to exercise until October to burn off the calories I’d just taken in. I figured I’d start on Monday.  
    The Sinful Ladies had been a study in psychology all themselves. Out loud was a lively conversation about the sermon, the pudding, and the latest in fabric down at the general store, but the sideways looks, slight nods, and almost imperceptible shaking of heads belied an entire other conversation happening that I wasn’t privy to. I wondered if Gertie had shared her theory about Marie killing her husband with the rest of them. Something must have been said, because the subject of the bone never came up, and in a town as small as Sinful, that had to be the biggest news of the moment.  
    But what I found the most interesting was that they didn’t quiz me on me. I’d expected to be asked to go back to Genesis and talk about my life, and although I’d read all the files, I wondered if my basic knowledge would be enough to satisfy them. They looked completely innocuous, but then, I’d been undercover enough times to know that what you saw on the surface was rarely what went on below.
    Something was up in Sinful, Louisiana, and I’d bet my last box of bullets that these ladies were in the fat middle of it. But it wasn’t my problem, and I was going to make sure it stayed that way. Below radar. Just like Morrow had insisted.
    I spent the rest of the day unpacking the hideous suitcases and getting a lay of the house. Given that Deputy LeBlanc had a penchant for appearing uninvited, I figured burning the suitcases was probably a bad idea, so I stuck them in a closet in a spare room where at least I didn’t have to see them. That chore took only thirty minutes, and then I went to the kitchen to take stock of supplies.  
    I opened the pantry and stared. Canned goods, dry goods, and preserves filled every shelf, staring back at me in neat rows with every computer-generated label facing directly out. I’d heard about this before with people who’d lived through the Depression, but Marge wasn’t quite old enough for that to have been the case. Then I remembered this was hurricane territory. Likely, every pantry in Sinful was fully stocked in case of inclement weather.  
    I glanced once more at the neatly arranged goods and shook my head before closing the pantry door. Marge either had been really bored one day or had a touch of OCD. I opened the freezer and pulled out the one package inside. It was wrapped in freezer paper and had “Deer steaks” and a date written on it. I had absolutely zero idea how to cook a deer steak, but then I had absolutely zero idea how to cook most things that didn’t go in the microwave.  
    Maybe Marge had a grill tucked away in that storage shed. Otherwise, I was going to have to come up with one or eat canned fruit and vegetables the