As soon as I said the word “wife,” Brandon’s expression shifted from slightly shocked to slightly afraid.
“Here’s the thing,” Ida Belle said. “We know you told Peaches that big shrimp were running and that’s where you’re making all the money you’re spending. But we also know that’s a lie, and we’ve seen you landlocked at least three times in the last several days rather than on your boat where you belong.”
“Peaches is a nice girl and doesn’t need trouble,” Gertie said. “So whatever you’re up to, you need to get it straightened out and be the husband and father those two deserve. You can’t do that in jail.”
Brandon’s eyes widened. “I…I’m not doing anything illegal. I swear.”
“Then what are you doing?” Ida Belle asked.
Brandon’s eyes dropped down and a flush crept up his face. “I’m writing books.”
I looked over at Ida Belle and Gertie, no idea what to say. If he’d said he was designing women’s undergarments, I don’t think I could have been more surprised.
“Come again?” Ida Belle said.
“Books,” he repeated. “I read every chance I get. Always have. Miss Gertie knows that. I always had a book under my school desk, trying to read in class. Well, one night I was surfing the net and I saw this article about a lady who wrote some stories and published them herself. She bought a new car and remodeled her whole house. I figured what the heck. I love a good pirate story and can’t ever find one, so I wrote my own and published it.”
I leaned in the window and looked at the laptop screen. “So, Captain Cavendish, are these pirate stories making you money?”
“Yeah,” he said, looking a bit surprised by the pronouncement. “At first I thought it was a fluke, but I’ve published three of them now and I’m making twice what I did shrimping.”
“So you’ve been sneaking around in your truck to write pirate stories,” Gertie said. “Unbelievable. Why didn’t you just write them on your boat? Then no one would have suspected you of doing something nefarious with all this strange sneaking around.”
“I can’t work on the boat,” he said, looking a bit sheepish. “It makes me sick to my stomach. Can’t read there, either.”
Ida Belle shook her head. “Of all the strange things we’ve heard this week, this one is right there at the top of the list, and that’s saying a lot.”
“You have to tell Peaches,” Gertie said. “Before someone else notices your odd daytime behavior. If they mention it to her instead of checking with you like we did…”
“Yes, ma’am,” Brandon said. “I could see where that would be a real problem. I wasn’t trying to keep it from her necessarily. It’s just that it was sorta embarrassing. I mean, I’m a guy’s guy—fishing, hunting. You know. And I didn’t really figure people would keep buying the stories.”
“Surprise!” I said, tickled that the explanation had turned out to be a pleasant one. “You’re an author. Tell your wife and go celebrate.”
He broke out in a slow smile. “I think I’ll do just that. Thanks for not ratting me out.”
I looked at Ida Belle and Gertie and grinned. “Looks like our work here is done.”
Chapter 19
I didn’t see Carter until late that night, but that was fine by me. If I’d seen him any sooner, I would have expected it to be with a set of handcuffs or even worse, that plane ticket to Idaho that I was so afraid of. It was just after 11:00 p.m. when I heard the knock on my front door. I’d been attempting a redo on the Jurassic Park marathon and got up to answer the door, no doubt at all who it was.
“Are you here to arrest me?” I asked.
“Do you have beer and something to eat that Ally made?” he asked.
“I think I can accommodate you.”
“Then I’ll leave the handcuffs in my truck.”
I stepped back and let him in, then trailed behind him to the kitchen. He pulled two beers out of the refrigerator while I unwrapped a plate of cookies and sat them on the table. We both sat and he took a big bite out of a cookie, then a long drink of beer. He slumped back in his chair and looked at me.
“New Orleans police have Francesca in custody,” he said.
“That makes me happy,” I said.
“I thought it might.” He leaned forward in his chair. “I think it’s time we talk turkey. What put you onto Nolan?”
I told him everything I’d explained to Gertie and Ida Belle the night before. He listened without interrupting but occasionally nodded. When I finished, he shook his head.
“I hate to say this,” he said, “because the last thing I want to do is encourage you, but that’s a damned fine piece of deduction.”
I felt my face warm with his compliment. “Maybe I just got lucky.”