Bayou easter, p.1
Bayou Easter, page 1
Bayou Easter
Riley Blake
Copyright © 2019 by Riley Blake
All rights reserved.
This story is based on a series created by Jana DeLeon. The author of this story has the contractual rights to create stories using the Miss Fortune world. Any unauthorized use of the Miss Fortune world for story creation is a violation of copyright law.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author and the publisher, J&R Fan Fiction, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Bayou Easter (Miss Fortune World: Bayou Cozy Romantic Thrills, #4)
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
About Bayou Easter
Bayou Easter is a new installment written for the Bayou Cozy Romantic Thrills, a series first published as part of the Miss Fortune Kindle Worlds program. This short story series is now part of the Miss Fortune World published by J&R Fan Fiction.
Bayou Easter features many of the original characters created by Jana DeLeon (Gertie, Ida Belle, Fortune, Carter, Walter, and more). This short story series is best followed by readers who have already read the first two novels in the original Miss Fortune series created and written by Jana DeLeon.
Chapter One
“SOME WOMEN ARE MADE for Dorothy and Oz.” I frowned. “But not me.”
“I’m surprised you’ve heard of either.” Ida Belle gave me a curious look and shrugged.
Gertie used my shoulders and gave me a spin. “Hef had his own version of bunnies, but here in the bayou we have special wabbits.” She smiled. “You look lovely, dear. Ida Belle, what do you think?”
Ida Belle scoffed. “Lose the ears, Fortune.”
“What?” I flattened my hands against my head. “What’s wrong with my ears?”
“Not your real ones. Go like this.” Ida Belle moved her head from one side to another.
I mimicked her motions and immediately realized I was top-heavy. I immediately dragged the headband from my hair and turned to the culprit. “Bunny ears? Really, Gertie? What happened to the one that matched my dress?”
“You weren’t paying attention and I switched them.”
Ida Belle said, “You should’ve waited, Hebert. Today is dress rehearsal. Tomorrow, she’ll see you coming.”
“I’m willing to downgrade,” Gertie said, slapping the bright yellow headband on the kitchen counter. “But floppy ears are more appropriate. They’re festive.”
“If she wanted to fit in with the kids, maybe,” said Ida Belle. “Her job is to supervise the children.”
My friend Ally and I had been recruited by Francine to help oversee the annual egg hunt event, but the kids were the least of our worries. Our jobs were to make sure the event didn’t turn into a battle between the Sinful Ladies Society and God’s Wives.
“Speaking of children, let’s remember why I’m mediating this event in the first place.”
“Don’t look at me,” Gertie said. “When push comes to shove, I can get along with Celia.”
“As long as you’re pushing her over a cliff, maybe.” Ida Belle removed a knife from her pocket and sliced off an apple piece. The timing seemed intentional.
These two were big on theatrics. And I loved it.
“My skills are typically more in line with egg fights, not hunts.”
Gertie’s spirits lifted. “Good, because tomorrow may end in an egg battle. Ida Belle and Celia seldom fail to disappoint.”
“One can hope,” Ida Belle said, sounding bored.
“When I first moved to Sinful, I didn’t realize that my skill set would be used for managing children—or adults—in personal warfare.”
“And here we thought you were a trained CIA assassin who loved to show off in combat.” Ida Belle finished off her apple slice.
“Combat, maybe. Daily life is another beast.”
“And you’re excelling in it, by the way,” Gertie teased.
Since Ida Belle and Gertie were former covert operatives, it probably wasn’t necessary to mention that my talent often relied upon ideal conditions, one of which included being dressed for physical struggles. Wearing a backless dress with a built-in bra and made-to-twirl flare wasn’t exactly my version of casual wear.
“The dress suits,” Ida Belle said.
“Thanks. With any luck, maybe I can lead someone straight down a rabbit hole.”
Gertie clapped. “Exactly.”
“So I can trap and kill them.” I dumped some jelly beans in a dish and popped one in my mouth.
Ida Belle snorted a laugh.
“I was talking about Carter,” Gertie said.
“I wasn’t.” I yawned and sighed. “I need a nap.”
“There isn’t time.” Gertie fluffed the back of her cotton-colored hair. “We have a busy night ahead.”
“Why am I not surprised?” Since my arrival in Louisiana, I’d missed more sleep than when I was holed up in the Middle East. I was beginning to think CIA Director Morrow had ulterior motives when he sent me to Sinful, motives which undoubtedly included working on my patience under duress.
Hiding in the bayou wasn’t as easy as I’d expected. When Director Morrow first sold the idea of assuming his niece’s identity, he talked about a slower pace and an all-American city. Sinful looked like a quaint town modeled after a perfect movie set, but the slower pace was nonexistent.
Gertie and Ida Belle already had ‘Easter in their heels’ which meant the Sinful Ladies Society probably had big plans for a catastrophic finale after the holiday festivities ended.
Since I wasn’t a member of the faction, it didn’t seem right to ask for details. Besides, Ally and I had recently decided it was better if we were surprised when the ladies were up to mischief. If we weren’t thrown in the mix then we easily escaped their ‘guilty by association’ tag.
Grabbing a water bottle from the fridge, I said, “So we’re clear, I don’t want to lead Carter anywhere.”
“Right,” Ida Belle said, nudging Gertie. “I’ve heard that somewhere before.”
Gertie scoffed. “Why, it’s like repeating history with you and Walter!”
Ida Belle shuffled the mail on my kitchen table and deliberately changed the subject. While Gertie and Ida Belle chatted about the upcoming Easter festivities, I glared at my reflection in the kitchen window. I looked like a ‘Sandy-Sue’ in my bright yellow dress.
“We need to run by the general store and see if Walter has any children’s sunglasses so we can drop a pair in each basket.”
Ida Belle twitched her mouth. “You’re not that bright.”
“She means the dress, Ida Belle.”
“I know what she meant, Hebert.”
“Where’d you find this annoying little outfit?” I asked.
“Walter ordered it for us,” Gertie said.
Walter and his general store were starting to present a problem. Whenever Gertie and Ida Belle needed props, they turned to Walter. If he didn’t have what they wanted in stock, he’d order it.
“Admit it. You love it,” Ida Belle said sardonically.
“If I’m thinking any four-letter words at all, love isn’t one of them.” I gave Ida Belle a pointed look. “Why doesn’t Walter order dresses for you?”
“He wouldn’t dare pull that crap on me.”
“He also knows better than to say “no” to Ida Belle. Full disclosure...she ordered the dress. Not me.”
I scowled. “You didn’t.”
Ida Belle shrugged. “You should dress like a party planner. It’s the only way you can pull this off.”
“What about Ally? She’s a planner, too.”
Our official titles were ‘referees’ but we had already agreed to keep it on the DL.
Ida Belle said, “Ally’s fashionable.”
“And I’m not?”
Ida Belle and Gertie stared at me with blank looks.
“Don’t answer that.”
Ida Belle rested her elbow on the table and studied me. “The CIA probably taught you how to walk and talk like a lady while preparing you for your overseas job, but we need you to look like a woman who can handle her own with our kind, too.”
“Your kind? What are you training me for? An inside position in one of Sinful’s botanical gardens?” I blew out a hard breath. “I look like a sunflower.”
They laughed.
I didn’t.
“At least with the CIA, I could use a stiletto.” I sighed before continuing, “What am I supposed to do if I need a weapon now? Pluck a flower from the material and use the tip to prick an enemy’s finger?”
“Don’t knock it,” Ida Belle said. “If we’re lucky, they’ll have an aversion to blood.”
“Hopefully, we’ve seen the last of your enemies.”
“I don’t live on hope, Gertie. I survive by reasonable doubt, especially when we’re in Wasteland.”
A neighboring town, Wasteland was currently recognized for its negative population count, due in part to the now-infamous Wasteland Steakhouse Massacre. Carter had taken me there for Valentine’s Day the year before. We’d kissed the back of death’s hand that night a
Somewhere along the way, feelings developed. We had a shared past now.
“I assured Mayor Hollowman that we would try to keep the town running until he returns from Bermuda.” Ida Belle grabbed a checkered cloth and wiped down a jar.
Momentarily distracted, I asked, “Why are there dozens of wallpapered Mason jars on my table?”
“Moonshine of course,” Gertie said.
“Did we graduate from pocket-sized bottles for a reason?” I quickly raked my brain for memories of recent stressors. “Let me guess, you lost another SLS member to marriage?”
Gertie waved her hand. “Of course not.”
“Is Celia holding one of your members for ransom?”
“Don’t be silly. Those jars are for members only. The Sinful Ladies never go into a warzone unprepared.” Gertie sounded so pragmatic.
I groaned. “I’m beginning to see why a mediator is necessary when the Sinful Ladies and God’s Wives are involved.”
“We’re not the problem,” said Ida Belle, straightening her shoulders. Proud of her leadership position with the most elite ladies club in the bayou, Ida Belle clearly believed she’d led her organization to a prestigious level of notoriety.
Gertie added, “Celia Arceneaux earns that badge no matter the situation or the company.”
I tapped one of the Mason jars. “Dare I ask what Celia and her group will bring to the meeting tonight?”
“Chocolate,” Gertie and Ida Belle chimed together.
I shrugged. “Good thing Ally keeps us well stocked on sweets. Otherwise, I’d have to switch sides.”
Ida Belle grunted. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Buy another dress for me and see what happens.”
“You don’t have to wear it tonight,” Ida Belle said. “Go change. You look ridiculous.”
I plucked two jars of moonshine from the table. “Just for that, I’ll see Celia’s box of chocolates and raise her with a jar of shine.”
“She doesn’t gamble,” said Ida Belle.
“Everyone gambles. It depends on the stakes.” I held up the moonshine. “This qualifies.”
“She’ll never go for it,” Gertie said. “It’s a matter of ethics.”
“Since when is it unethical to barter for candy?”
“It isn’t in our book,” Ida Belle said. “In Celia’s, any trade between the Sinful Ladies and God’s Wives is nothing short of treachery.”
I groaned. “Far be it for me to commit treason while trading for candy.”
“Don’t worry, Fortune. We’ll get through the night without calling anyone out for past crimes or future transgressions,” said Gertie.
“It’ll be tough,” Ida Belle admitted solemnly. “You know how Celia is, especially when she has an audience.”
“Just as long as you don’t try to upstage her, we’ll be in good shape.”
Ida Belle turned to Gertie. “Would I do that?”
“Not on Saturday because we rarely see Celia on Saturday,” Gertie said. “But Sundays are fair game.”
Chapter Two
THANKS TO IDA BELLE’S game theory, we arrived in Wasteland about forty-five minutes ahead of schedule.
I glowered at the empty parking lot. “Let me guess, the meeting starts at seven?”
“We always plan ahead so we can save seats for our members with hearing challenges,” Gertie said.
“Bull,” I said. “The only reason you care about seating is because you like to keep your back to the wall and watch as everyone enters. That way you can sum up any newcomers before you’re introduced.”
“We don’t have motives for everything we do.”
“Don’t believe a word of that nonsense,” Gertie said.
“I don’t,” I said, turning to acknowledge several cows grazing in a field next to the property. When the steakhouse was opened for business, animals were rarely seen. They probably felt a little safer after the Hollowmans left for greener pastures. I gave the cows two-thumbs up and caught an eye-roll from Gertie before we entered the restaurant.
Ida Belle walked ahead of us. “Come on, girls. Let’s get the lights on.”
“It could be as easy as flipping a switch.”
“Ha!” Gertie snickered, but followed Ida Belle.
Once Ida Belle realized we wouldn’t need to rig the electricity, she headed to the kitchen. “Wonder if Hollowman left the walk-in freezers?”
“Probably. Those wouldn’t be easy to move,” I said.
“Good to know. If Celia gets out of hand, we can keep her on ice,” Ida Belle said, returning to the main part of the restaurant.
Gertie picked up a few overturned chairs. “With Celia, we always need a Plan B.”
I sighed. “If you’d give Celia half a chance, she might surprise you.”
“She would,” Ida Belle said. “And then I’d be blindsided.”
“Maybe, but what if you...”
“Super. When did you get here?” Celia’s disgusted voice carried through the dining room and we all turned. “I thought the steakhouse was off-limits until our event planners could discuss the rules for tomorrow’s hunt.”
“They’ve done that already,” Gertie said.
“We wanted to turn the lights on,” I said. “And set up the tables and chairs.”
“It would’ve been too much of a challenge for you,” Ida Belle added, catching a nudge from Gertie. “We’d hate to trouble you.”
“See there,” I said under my breath. “Kindness goes a long way.”
“Using one’s mind for things like locating the breaker box can be a tedious task,” Ida Belle continued.
So much for wishful thinking.
“I’m not fighting with you today, Ida Belle,” Celia said. “Today, we’re going to be civil to one another.”
“Right there,” Gertie whispered. “That’s how she provokes Ida Belle.”
Under normal circumstances, those words might have been viewed as a peace offering, but when Celia and Ida Belle were in the same vicinity, situations were never as they seemed. Ida Belle undoubtedly viewed the statement as a dare.
“How about tomorrow? Can we extend the peace treaty until midnight?” I crossed my fingers behind my back and watched as Celia and Ida Belle locked in a quiet exchange that was more combative than a war of words. “Anyone?”
Ida Belle stalked away. Celia grinned.
“There’s your answer,” said Gertie.
Today, they would be on their best behaviors. Tomorrow, a sour play was definitely on the horizon.
THE MEETING WENT AS well as could be expected.
Ally arrived with homemade cupcakes and brownies. She’d prepared trays for each group and I helped her distribute them.
Celia and God’s Wives sat on the restaurant side of the abandoned steakhouse while Ida Belle, Gertie, and the Sinful Ladies Society made themselves at home in the bar area. That probably wasn’t a coincidence.
The saloon once paid homage to the Wild West with its artifacts and décor. With the restaurant now abandoned, it looked more like a historical sanctuary that memorialized unsavory times and characters.
Given her dark mood, Ida Belle fit right in.
We had a lot of work to do before Sunday’s event. The restaurant itself had only been closed for a couple of months, but it was already starting to look a little rundown.
Cobwebs climbed the corners. Several inches of dust and dirt covered the tables. A rickety black light fixture swung from the room’s center, but it gave the bar character. As long as Ida Belle and Gertie didn’t try to hang Celia by her ankles, its fragility wouldn’t be a problem.
Since we couldn’t get the ladies to congregate in the same space, Ally and I stood in the middle so we could appear impartial and see everyone. I nudged Ally, hoping she’d take the lead but when she wasn’t able to get their attention, I released a loud whistle and eventually said, “Ally and I spoke earlier. We’ve reached a decision about this year’s hunt. We’ll go over the rules once. If you miss them, you’re out of luck.”
Ripples of conversation and outright grumbles resounded before Celia eventually hushed everyone. Ida Belle’s group didn’t mutter another word. Apparently, they approved of my opening statement.
“All right then,” I said, turning to Ally. “You’re up.”
