Gators and Garters Read online

  We hit the lake in record time and Ida Belle slowed as she headed for the center. Gertie handed me binoculars from the storage bench and I scanned the area, looking for Molly. I spotted a couple of commercial fishing boats and a ski boat full of teens, then several bass boats, but they all held men.

  “Anything?” Ida Belle asked when I lowered the binoculars.

  “No,” I said. “All the bass boats are guys.”

  “You sure one of them isn’t Molly?” Gertie asked. “I mean, they’re wearing caps and from a distance…”

  “Heck, from up close she could look like a guy,” I said. “But they all have beards. I don’t care how much testosterone she has, she still can’t grow a beard in one afternoon.”

  Ida Belle nodded. “Then we’ll head up the channel.”

  I barely got the binoculars tucked in by my side before she took off across the lake at two billion miles per hour. It might have been terrifying if it hadn’t been so exhilarating. Gertie was hooting from her seat in the bottom of the boat when Ida Belle made a sharp right and the boat skimmed the top of the water sideways as we turned into the channel.

  She slowed down in the narrower body of water. Not because she couldn’t go faster and definitely not because she didn’t want to, but because I needed to be able to hold the binoculars to my eyes and scan the marsh for any sign of Molly. Gertie pulled out another set and hopped up on the bench seat now that we were slow cruising and helped me look. We did ten minutes of scanning up the channel but never spotted her.

  Ida Belle cut the accelerator. “There’s her dock and her bigger boat isn’t there.”

  “Does the bayou continue past her dock in the other direction?” I asked.

  “It does,” Ida Belle said. “But it dead-ends at a freshwater dam. It’s decent fishing there, although more so at night, but if that’s where she was, you would have already heard from Carter. Deputy Breaux was on boat patrol today and he would have been sent there first to check.”

  “Do many people come this way?” I asked.

  “Not really,” Ida Belle said. “There’s better fishing a dozen other places.”

  “So it’s unlikely someone would have seen Molly unless she went into the lake,” I said.

  Ida Belle nodded. “Maybe we should head back to the lake and ask around.”

  “I think so,” I said.

  “Grab your butts,” Ida Belle said.

  Gertie flopped down in the bottom of the boat on her custom cushion, and I moved to the very back of my seat and gripped the arm bars with both hands, clutching the binoculars in between my thighs and hoping I had the strength to hold once she got going. She took off at full speed and it was worse than a day at the gym. Weaving around the corners, barely skirting overhangs and cypress roots. Even fish fled in the other direction, skipping across the top of the water as they made their escape.

  When we reached the lake, she took a hard right and Gertie involuntarily vacated her cushion. At least she was already in the bottom of the boat. The first couple times we’d gone out in my airboat, Gertie had attempted to sit on the bench but the potential for disaster was so high, I’d had her a memory foam cushion specially made so she could be secure in the bottom of the boat. Well, mostly secure.

  She pushed herself upright and gave Ida Belle the finger without looking back. I held in a grin and then suddenly, Ida Belle cut speed completely and I leaned forward, clutching the handrails so that I didn’t pitch out of my seat. She pointed ahead of us and I saw a couple of older local guys in a bass boat. They were some distance away but it was beyond rude to approach people quickly when they were fishing. Even if someone was missing.

  She inched closer to the fisherman and lifted her hand to wave. They recognized us and lifted a hand back. We pulled up within loud talking distance and they both stared at us, expectantly and just a tad bit impatiently.

  “You guys seen Miss Molly today?” Ida Belle asked.

  They both shook their heads.

  “But if she’s fishing, I don’t think I’d go tracking her down for food and stuff,” one man said. “That woman is scary.”

  “It’s not that,” Ida Belle said. “Her boat is missing and there seems to be some concern that she’s in danger. So we were trying to find her and reassure ourselves that she’s all right.”

  “Can’t imagine who could take that woman out,” the second man said. “Unless maybe it was you with a long-range rifle, or that pretty blonde there that you run with.”

  “If you see her, will you tell her we were looking for her?” Ida Belle asked.

  Their eyes widened and they both shook their heads.

  “No ma’am, we won’t do that,” the first man said. “But I’m happy to call and let you know if we spot her.”

  “Cowards,” Gertie grumbled.

  I couldn’t say that I blamed them. If Miss Molly was really out fishing, either for dinner or relaxation, then accosting her probably wouldn’t end well. She struck me as the type of person who liked to choose when she interacted with people. And heading out on your boat alone said only one thing to me.

  Ida Belle started up the boat and continued on. About halfway around the lake, we spotted another boat. As we inched up, the man with the pole in the water looked up from what appeared to be a nap. He spotted us and waved.

  “Hey, Nickel,” Ida Belle said. “Good to see you out in the fresh air.”

  Nickel and his brother, Whiskey, owned the Swamp Bar, but it was usually Whiskey who kept things running. Nickel, who’d gotten his nickname from a five-year stint in prison, was a repeat jail visitor. Mostly his offenses were minor now but with his record, judges didn’t tend to give him any slack.

  He grinned as we approached. “I don’t know how fresh it is, but it’s still good to be out in it.”

  “Maybe you can cut your brother a break and stick around for a while,” Ida Belle said.

  “Oh heck, Whiskey’s got that bar running on autopilot,” he said. “If anything, I get in the way. Best thing I can contribute is fresh seafood, which is why I’m out here today.”

  He reached over and opened an ice chest to show us a couple of large redfish.

  “Nice,” Gertie said.

  He nodded. “Couple more and we’ll have enough for a big stew tomorrow night. Whiskey’s redfish stew always brings in the crowd.”

  “How’s your daddy doing?” Ida Belle asked. The brothers’ father had terminal cancer and doctors had said he didn’t have much longer back last year. Apparently, their father wasn’t in agreement and was still hanging in.

  “He’s in bad shape,” Nickel said. “But you know the old coot is too stubborn to go. Can’t walk much anymore without help, and we can’t keep any weight on him no matter what we feed him. But ain’t none of that stopped him from dressing us boys down, so I’d say he’s doing all right.”

  “He always was a tough guy,” Ida Belle said. “Let me know if we can do anything.”

  “I appreciate it,” he said. “So what are you ladies doing out today? I don’t see any fishing gear.”

  “We’re looking for Miss Molly,” Ida Belle said. “You seen her?”

  “Nope,” he said. “Hadn’t seen any womenfolk out today at all, not that I’d ever refer to Molly as womenfolk. Least not to her face.” He gave Ida Belle a curious look. “Why you looking for her?”

  “Her boat’s gone from the dock and no one can raise her by phone,” Ida Belle said. “Apparently, she called a friend who couldn’t make out much of the phone call, but she heard enough to think something was wrong. She called Carter and he went to check but so far, hasn’t no one seen hide nor hair of her since this afternoon.”

  “She’s got that aaaaasss…boyfriend.”

  I smiled. I knew what he’d been about to say. “The boyfriend doesn’t know where she is, either,” I said. “I take it he’s not on your fishing buddy list.”

  “No way,” he said. “That dude is bad news. Comes into the bar and gets stinking drunk, hit
ting on wives and girlfriends. Like anyone’s going to take him up on that crap. First off, he’s obnoxious and not all that pretty to look at. More importantly, everyone knows he’s with Molly. Ain’t nobody fool enough to jump in front of that train.”

  “Does Molly know he does that?” Ida Belle asked.

  Nickel shrugged. “No idea. Guess someone might have told her, but it would have to be someone with big ones. I wouldn’t want to deliver that kind of message to Molly. Would you?”

  “No,” I said. “It might affect life expectancy as sometimes the messenger gets taken down with the guilty party.”

  “Exactly,” he said. “Anyway, if I see her, I’ll give you a call but it’s been quiet out here today. Too hot for most people. They’ll come out in an hour or so when the sun starts setting. I wouldn’t worry much about Molly, though. She can take care of herself. If people can’t find her, it’s probably ’cause she don’t want to be found.”

  “Probably so,” Ida Belle agreed. “Thanks, Nickel. And stay out of trouble.”

  “I’m going to try,” he said.

  “I wonder if Molly knew her boyfriend was trying to pick up other women at the Swamp Bar,” I said as Ida Belle pulled slowly away.

  “Hard to say,” Gertie said. “Normally, you can’t keep something that blatant a secret in a place like Sinful, but Nickel’s right—people might be afraid to tell her. Still, I suppose someone could have made an anonymous phone call or sent her an email from a fake account. Her email is on her website.”

  “Or sent pictures or video for that matter,” Ida Belle said. “The days of ‘he said, she said’ about public displays of bad behavior are over. Seems most everything you do outside your house is recorded by something.”

  I frowned. “Her boyfriend looked awfully mad today.”

  “You mean after he got his butt whupped?” Gertie asked. “Maybe someone did tell her.”

  “You think he did something to her?” I asked.

  They looked at each other, then shrugged.

  “I don’t know anything about him,” Ida Belle said. “Never even knew she had a boyfriend until today. Molly isn’t one for small talk and definitely not for personal talk.”

  “I couldn’t even tell you his name,” Gertie said. “He’s not from around here. That’s about all I know.”

  “Maybe she imported him from New Orleans,” I said. “Where to now? There’s no one else on the lake. I guess everyone’s headed home.”

  “I don’t want to give up,” Gertie said. “If Carter had found Molly, he would have sent a text at least.”

  “I don’t want to give up, either,” I said. “I just have no idea where to start. There’s a million places a person in a boat could go around here. You two are going to have to make your best guess and we’ll start there.”

  “That’s a tough one with Molly being such a private person,” Ida Belle said. “If this was a regular search-and-rescue, we’d have a dozen or more volunteers and could split up territory, but with only us…”

  She scanned the lake for a bit, then shook her head. “Since we know Molly didn’t like the stop-and-chat, maybe we start on some of the lesser-used bayous.”

  “That makes sense,” I said. “Maybe the ones closest to the channel that runs by her house first, then we can spread out from there.”

  Ida Belle nodded and Gertie and I prepared for launch. A couple minutes later, she turned into a smaller channel and slowed so that Gertie and I could use the binoculars to search.

  “I picked this one because there’s not so many trees in between bayous,” Ida Belle said. “From this one, you should be able to see two or more to the right.”

  “Will we be able to see her boat with the grass?” I asked.

  “Her console is high enough that I’m hoping you can, but I can’t be sure,” Ida Belle said.

  She continued down the bayou as Gertie and I scanned the area for any sign of a boat. We’d probably traveled a mile or better when I spotted sunlight reflecting off something one bayou over.

  “There!” I said and pointed.

  Chapter Four

  Ida Belle let off the accelerator and Gertie swung her binoculars the direction I’d indicated.

  “I don’t see anything,” Gertie said.

  “I saw sun reflecting off something,” I said. “Maybe a boat console?”

  Ida Belle nodded. “Let me turn around and head back out.”

  “Wait a minute,” Gertie said. “It will take longer for you to drive back up this bayou and then down the other than it will for me to walk across this narrow patch of land and see for myself.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I said. “What if there are gators in the marsh?”

  “That goes without saying,” Gertie said. “But they usually take off when they hear people coming.”

  “‘Usually’ is not always,” I said.

  “Oh, for Christ’s sake,” Gertie said as she stood and set her binoculars on the bench. “I’ve been traipsing through these bayous since I could walk. A gator hasn’t gotten me yet and one isn’t going to.”

  “I’m more afraid you’ll come back with another one in your pants,” Ida Belle said.

  Gertie waved a hand in dismissal and stood on the bench. We were only a foot from the bank, and she could easily step off onto it but where Gertie was involved, things rarely went to plan. She was just stepping off when Ida Belle yelled to wait.

  But it was too late.

  The patch of dirt that looked like land was, in fact, a mat of marsh grass and mud, floating on top of the water. Gertie took one step on it and down she went.

  “At least she had the sense to take the binoculars off first,” Ida Belle said as we leaned over the side of the boat. A second later, Gertie’s head broke the surface—the mat of dead marsh grass sitting on it like a hat—and she coughed water everywhere.

  “Do you have to hack that up on all of us?” Ida Belle asked.

  Gertie grabbed the side of the boat and we hauled her back into it. She slumped in the bottom, still coughing, and Ida Belle banged on her back a couple times until she was breathing normally.

  “Do I have your permission to drive around now?” Ida Belle asked. “Maybe we can blow some of those weeds off your head. You look like a rerun of Hee Haw.”

  I was waiting for the inevitable finger but all of a sudden, Gertie’s eyes widened and she bolted up like she’d been ejected from her seat, flinging the patch of weeds off her head. She grabbed her T-shirt and started pulling it, yelling at the top of her lungs. Ida Belle appeared as lost as I was, but the one thing I knew was that she wanted that shirt off and T-shirts just didn’t tear in real life like they did for sexy guys in movies. I grabbed the bottom of her shirt and yanked it up over her head, and that’s when I got a firsthand look at the problem.

  There was a water moccasin in her bra.

  The long venomous snake had gone in between her boobs and was looped around the front of the undergarment, its head forward and hissing at me. It struck out once and I jumped back. Gertie had her hands over her mouth, probably to keep from yelling and drawing its attention her way.

  “Unhook her bra!” I yelled at Ida Belle, who was standing behind her.

  “It’s a front clasp,” Ida Belle said, sounding a little panicked.

  “Cut it!” I said as the snake lunged at me again.

  I heard a knife click open and a second later, the bra flipped forward over Gertie’s shoulders. The snake dropped to the bottom of the boat with the bra, and Gertie shifted her hands from her mouth to her chest and jumped up into my chair. The snake fled the bra and slithered into the T-shirt, so I grabbed the whole bundle and tossed it overboard. When I looked up at Gertie, standing in my chair and holding her chest with her hands, I realized we might have a logistical problem.

  “I don’t suppose you keep spare shirts on your boat,” Gertie said.

  “In hindsight, I probably should,” I said. “What is it with you and snakes thi
s week?”

  “Give her your shirt,” Ida Belle said. “You wear a sports bra. That’s more coverage than a bikini top.”

  “I’m not wearing a bra at all today,” I said. “It’s too hot for multiple layers, and my T-shirt is the thicker kind.”

  “Wait until you have gravity issues,” Gertie said. “You won’t be going without one then.”

  “What about your shirt?” I asked Ida Belle.

  “My bra is lace,” Ida Belle said.

  Gertie stared. “That seems awfully girlie of you.”

  Ida Belle shrugged. “Combine too hot with the gravity problem and you get a really thin bra. Seemed more of a practicality, really.”

  I picked up the bra from the bottom of the boat. “We can salvage this. Tie it back together.”

  Gertie turned her back to us and slipped the bra into place while Ida Belle worked on tying the back into a knot. Gertie grunted as she stretched the fabric to its limit, finally managing to get a small knot. Gertie turned around and we couldn’t help laughing. It was so tight it had her chest not far from her chin.

  “Maybe pull it down all over,” I said.

  Ida Belle adjusted and Gertie looked down and sighed. “I look like a white trash dirty movie.”

  I pulled a life jacket from the storage bench and handed it to her. “Wear this. It covers the important things.”

  Ida Belle nodded. “And now that they’re strapped in, that whole gravity thing won’t have parts peeking out the side of that jacket.”

  Gertie glared. “You two are enjoying this entirely too much.”

  She pulled on the jacket and flopped back down in her seat, waving a hand at us to get going. Ida Belle looked over at me and grinned before she started up the boat and took off. It didn’t take too long to backtrack on the bayou and then traverse the other, and as we approached the bend where I’d seen the boat, Ida Belle slowed. We rounded the corner and she nodded.

  “That’s Molly’s boat,” she said.

  Since the name on the back read The Mauler I figured that was the case but there was no sign of Molly anywhere. I scanned the bank behind the boat but didn’t see any evidence of human passage.