“I suppose if the walls of the house ever come loose,” I said, “the trees will hold them in place. It’s like the creepy cousin of the Keebler factory.”
“Her son tried to get her to move into an apartment in New Orleans,” Gertie said, “but he could never get her to leave.”
“So he just stopped trying?” I asked.
“Sort of,” Gertie said. “He died.”
“I suppose that gets him a pass,” I said.
“I’ll just run this in so we don’t all get tied up in there,” Gertie said.
“Good,” Ida Belle said, looking relieved.
Gertie climbed out and limped up the stairs and onto the porch. She knocked on the door and someone must have yelled, because a couple seconds later, she pushed the door open and walked inside.
“That woman makes me crazy,” Ida Belle said.
“Which one?” I asked.
“Ha! Both of them, but Mary Esther is the worst. She does nothing but complain. It’s too hot or too cold or the wind’s blowing too much or not enough. That’s probably why God’s let her live this long. He doesn’t want to hear about all the mistakes he made when building heaven.”
I smiled, then remembered Brandon and the smile faded. “What could Brandon be doing out in the swamp that makes money?”
“Poaching is the most likely answer. He has a cover on the bed of his truck, so he could have anything in the back of it.”
“I always thought most people poached for their own benefit—I mean, to stock their own refrigerator.”
“I’d say the majority do,” Ida Belle said, “but there’s a black market for things like alligator, dove, and deer. Some of the butcher shops are less than ethical about things. Not the one in Sinful, mind you. Shorty’s always been aboveboard, but others are less particular about things like the law, especially when it comes to extra dollars in their pocket.”
“Don’t ask, don’t tell?”
“Yep. If the police question them, they say they had the meat in the freezer from last season and are bringing out a little at a time so they don’t run out completely.”
“And without a search warrant, the police can’t look at their freezers and see what’s actually there.”
“You got it.”
“Do you really think that’s it?” I asked. Poaching was illegal and very uncool, but in the list of things Brandon could be doing, it was one of the lesser offenses. Other locals hiding out in the swamp had been running drugs, brewing up crystal meth, and arms dealing. A little poaching would probably only get Brandon a slap on the hand if he got caught. A little crystal meth brewing would get him serious time.
The front door popped open and Gertie hobbled back out to the car. “I had to tell her I hurt my ankle and you’re taking me to the hospital,” she said. “Otherwise, I would never have gotten out of there.”
“We should be taking you to the hospital,” Ida Belle said.
“Stop your grousing. Fortune can take a look when we get to her house,” Gertie said. “If she thinks I need to see a doctor, then I will.”
Ida Belle seemed satisfied with that and we headed back to Sinful. Ten minutes later, we pulled into my driveway. As soon as we got inside, I pointed to the recliner and told Gertie to sit, then I opened the shades on the front windows, allowing evening sun to flood the room with light. I raised the footrest on the recliner and proceeded to unwrap the dishrag from Gertie’s ankle.
It was already swollen and purple, but not as bad as I’d been expecting. I touched the side with one finger. “Does that hurt?” I asked.
“Some, but not too bad,” Gertie said.
“Will you grab some cough syrup?” I asked Ida Belle. “There’s two bottles in the pantry.”
Sinful Ladies Cough Syrup would stop a cough and cure a host of other things. It was the Sinful Ladies Society’s special brew of moonshine, but as long as it was packaged and sold as an herbal medicine, everyone in Sinful was happy to look the other way…and purchase a bottle or two.
Ida Belle returned with the bottle and handed it to Gertie.
“Take a big swig of that,” I said.
Gertie tossed back a big shot of the moonshine, then handed the bottle back to Ida Belle. “Take that back to the kitchen. If I drink any more, I’ll be asleep in this chair instead of looking at photos.”
“Do you feel it yet?” I asked.
“Got that tingling warm feeling,” Gertie said. “Do your thing.”
I reached over with both hands and began gently pressing on Gertie’s ankle, locating the bones and ensuring they were all where they belonged and weren’t protruding. Gertie grimaced a couple of times, but otherwise, said nothing.
“Well?” she asked when I finished.
“Nothing’s broken,” I said. “It could be a hairline fracture but I think you’d have a harder time walking on it if it was. My best guess is that it’s a sprain.”
Gertie looked up at Ida Belle. “Is that good enough for you?”
Ida Belle nodded. “Let’s get it wrapped up good and get some ice on it for the swelling. You can take an aspirin and I’ll put a pillow under your foot to keep it propped up.”