Fortune Hunter (A Miss Fortune Mystery Book 8)

“If you’d stop interrupting,” Gertie said, “I’d get to the part where he scammed her out of twenty thousand dollars.”


“Holy crap!” I said. “It’s a big jump from underwear to that kind of cash.”

“How’d he do it?” Ida Belle asked.

“He told her he had leave coming and wanted to meet her in Italy and have a romantic week away. Then he gave her some story about wanting to book the perfect getaway but not being able to access his bank account where he was stationed.”

“So she sent him the money.” I shook my head. “I would say I can’t believe it, but I stopped saying that my second day in Sinful.”

“Well, I’ll say it,” Ida Belle said. “Beulah is no rocket scientist, but I never pegged her for an utter fool.”

“Love makes you do strange things,” Gertie said.

“It might some people,” Ida Belle said. “But plenty of us have the good sense to know when we’re being fed a line of bull from a man.”

I frowned. Carter hadn’t fed me a line of bull, but I’d definitely fed myself one, even if I wasn’t aware I was doing it at the time. “Maybe she wanted to believe it so badly, she refused to see the truth,” I said quietly.

Ida Belle and Gertie looked at each other, then Gertie nodded. “I’m afraid that’s just the kind of emotion these people prey on.”

“It’s unfortunate,” Ida Belle said, “but I imagine her money is long gone to some foreign bank account never to be seen again. How did she send it?”

“PayPal,” Gertie said. “But that’s not the only thing.”

“What else did she have to send?” I asked. “Her left leg? A kidney?”

“No,” Gertie said. “I mean, Beulah’s not the only one. Myrtle said Bessy Thompson and Willa Maples were down at the sheriff’s department this morning, demanding Carter find the scoundrel and get their money back.”

“They all got taken by the same guy?” I asked.

Gertie shrugged. “The profiles were different, but really, it could be anyone, so that doesn’t mean much.”

“And all of them sent money?” Ida Belle asked, already shaking her head in anticipation of the answer she knew was forthcoming.

“Yep,” Gertie said. “I don’t know how much. Myrtle got interrupted for a bit because Old Man Marcantel’s goat ate the lock on the jail cell they were keeping him in and started eating his way through a filing cabinet.”

“Why was a goat in jail?” I asked.

Gertie waved a hand in dismissal. “The usual offenses. Anyway, my point is someone is scamming lonely Sinful women out of money.” She clapped her hands. “We have a crime to investigate.”

My automatic protest quivered on my lips, but for the first time since I’d arrived, I actually paused. In the past, I’d attempted, although somewhat halfheartedly, to avoid involvement in anything that law enforcement would be addressing because I had to be careful not to blow my cover. Since that cat had burst out of the bag, I had no reason to continue pretending to be a law-abiding librarian, as least as far as Carter was concerned. Which left me options I didn’t have before.

Ida Belle and Gertie looked at me, expectant expressions on their faces. I knew they wanted me to toss my hat in the investigative ring—mostly to help bring me out of my current funk, but also because the two of them were physically and mentally incapable of not poking their nose into things.

“Why the hell not,” I said.





Chapter 2





“Yay!” Gertie cheered as Ida Belle broke into a grin.

Apparently, my pronouncement had scored big.

I held up one hand. “But…I have no idea where to even start. I’ve barely looked at Facebook and only have vague exposure to this whole catfish thing. You two are going to have to get all this going.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Gertie said. “I’ve got it all figured out.”

“Uh-oh,” Ida Belle said.

Gertie shot her a dirty look then looked back at me. “I’m going to go fishing.”

I frowned. “This is another metaphor, right?”

“I’m going fishing for a catfish,” Gertie said triumphantly. “Get it?”

“And just what are you proposing to use as bait?” Ida Belle asked.

“Me, of course. That should be enough for any man,” Gertie said.

Ida Belle snorted. “More than.”

Gertie ignored her. “But since this isn’t a regular romance sort of situation, I’m going to need more than my natural beauty and charm, so I figured I’d use money to make it an even better deal.”

“What money?” Ida Belle asked. “It’s not like you’re the Caesar of Sinful or something.”

“I’m not going to actually send him money,” Gertie said. “I just need to reel him in enough that he asks for money. Then maybe we can track him down.”