“She’s blushing again,” Gertie said. “And she still won’t tell us about those nights she won’t answer her phone.”
“I don’t think she needs to tell us,” Ida Belle said. “It doesn’t take a detective to know what’s going on there.”
Gertie sighed. “I’d still like details. I really miss the details.”
“Stop!” I said, and answered the call.
“Are you still at Gertie’s house?” Carter asked.
“Yeah, why?” His voice sounded tense, and that was never a good thing. As far as I knew, none of us had meddled in police business since the poacher case, but with Gertie, you never could be certain what else might have transpired when Ida Belle and I weren’t around to reel her in.
“The auditors have finalized the election count,” he said. “They’re announcing the results in thirty minutes.”
I clenched my phone. “Where?”
“Downtown in front of the sheriff’s department. A camera crew will be here. Marie and Celia have already been notified.”
“Holy crap, that’s huge.”
“I would tell you to make those two stay put because things could get ugly, but without handcuffing them, I know you can’t.”
“No way. We want to be there.”
“Please try to keep things under control.”
“Yeah, control depends on how this turns out.”
I hung up the phone. Ida Belle and Gertie had ceased all conversation and were staring at me, worried expressions on their faces. They knew my serious voice, so they knew something was up. Of all the things they might expect to hear, the election results were probably low on the list.
During the last mayoral election, Ida Belle’s nemesis and the first lady of horrible, Celia Arceneaux, ran against Ida Belle and Gertie’s friend Marie. Celia won, but Marie asked for a recount based on rumors of ballot tampering. The audit had started weeks ago, and at the rate they were moving, we’d decided it would be time for a new election before they announced the results. In the meantime, Celia held Sinful hostage, making Carter’s life miserable and using her position to bully everyone else into doing her bidding. If Celia maintained her position as mayor, I predicted an exodus from Sinful equivalent to that of Moses leading his people out of Egypt.
“The election results are in,” I said. “They’re making the announcement downtown in front of the sheriff’s department in thirty minutes.”
“Holy crap.”
“Mother of God.”
They both spoke at once, and Gertie reached over and grabbed Ida Belle’s arm.
“Well,” Ida Belle said, “this is it. I guess we best get down there and see what the future holds.”
She didn’t have to spell it out. So much was riding on this election. Ida Belle and Gertie had already said they’d seriously consider moving if Celia stayed in office, and even if Carter was allowed to keep his position, he had already stated that he didn’t feel he could work for Celia. I was Celia’s number one target for takedown, so my plans for future residency definitely depended on what everyone else decided. I really liked Sinful, but without Carter, Ida Belle, and Gertie, it would just be another small town. I could find one of those anywhere.
Gertie let go of Ida Belle, took my hand in hers, and squeezed. “Don’t worry. I have a good feeling about this.”
I hoped she was right. “Maybe we should take a bottle of the new stuff…just in case.”
The scene downtown looked like geriatric Woodstock. Women milled around the street in random states of dress, some without shoes, many with rollers in their hair, one wearing a green paste on her face, and one still stirring something in a mixing bowl. Some of the men wore muddy boots and were holding rifles, which would be alarming anywhere but Sinful, but here was quite common. Other men stood beside coolers that reeked of fish, and as we approached the crowd, one man ran from behind the buildings where the bayou was located, clutching a rod with a fish still on the line. Apparently, everyone was anxious to be front and center for the big announcement.
I made a note of where live fish guy was standing in case I needed to borrow the fish and slap anyone with it. I’d done it accidentally once, and I’d been itching to do it on purpose ever since.
We weaved in and out of the crowd and finally spotted Marie near the front of the sheriff’s department. She wore a pretty blue dress and looked kinda pale. We pushed our way through the crowd and managed to squeeze in beside her.
Gertie took her hand. “Are you all right? You look a little peaked.”
“I think I’m going to pass out,” Marie said. “It feels like we’ve been waiting on this forever and now that it’s here, I’m afraid. What if the recount is still in Celia’s favor?”
“A lot of homes will go on the market,” Ida Belle said. “If we had a revote, you can bet things would be a lot different. A lot of people who voted for Celia have her number now.”
“If only they’d had a lick of sense before,” Gertie said. “Maybe there should be an IQ test to vote.”
“There should be an IQ test for a lot of things,” Ida Belle grumbled.
The door to the sheriff’s department opened and Carter walked out, followed by three men and one woman all wearing black suits and white shirts. It was either the Secret Service, the men in black, or the auditors. I was going with auditors, but I reserved the right to change my selection. This was Sinful.
Carter scanned the crowd and locked in on me. I started to do the ole raised eyebrow thing or a slight hands up, but the strained look on his face told me everything I needed to know. Either Celia was still in charge or he didn’t know yet and was as worried as the rest of us. He raised his hands and waved at the crowd of people.
“Can I have your attention please?” he yelled. “We don’t have audio equipment, so I need everyone to be quiet.”
The noise level dropped, but only by half, as people continued to move about and talk in low voices. Ida Belle stuck her fingers in the sides of her mouth and whistled. An ear-shattering, glass-breaking whistle. My hands flew involuntarily over my ears and as I glared at her, I noticed Gertie pulling some cotton out of her ears.
“She does it every time,” Gertie said.
“A little warning would have been nice,” I said.
Gertie gave me an apologetic shrug, and I turned back around to see Carter waving at one of the suits.
“This is Bryant Wilkinson,” Carter said. “He is the audit manager and will announce the findings.”
I watched as the suit moved closer to the crowd.
Midfifties. A hundred and eighty pounds, twenty of it potbelly. Skin that hadn’t seen the sun in years. Delicate hands. Only dangerous if he was auditing you and you were a tax evader.
Wilkinson cleared his throat and said, “Before I announce the results, I’d like to introduce my team, who worked diligently to conduct this audit.”
“Nobody cares!” a man shouted.
“You got paid!” a woman threw in. “You’re supposed to work diligently.”