The guy reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a wallet, then opened it, showing the federal identification that I’d been expecting to see.
Carter peered down at it. “ATF? Would you like to tell me what you’re doing in Miss Morrow’s backyard?”
“We’re not at liberty to talk about an investigation in progress,” the ATF agent said.
“Really?” Carter said. “Well, I’m not at liberty to allow the harassment of citizens in their own homes, so you can come down to the sheriff’s department and wait there until you acquire that liberty you need to loosen your tongues.”
“You can’t be serious,” the ATF agent said.
“Hey,” Carter said. “I’m doing you a favor. This is not the sort of town where you go sneaking around private property at night. You’re lucky she didn’t shoot you, and I might add, she would have been well within her rights to claim a threat. You can spill it now or later, but rest assured, I have enough federal connections of my own to find out why you’re here. So you can save all three of us a long night of stale coffee by just spitting it out.”
“Fine,” the agent said. “We got a report that these three women were involved in the manufacturing and distribution of illegal alcohol products.”
I stared. It was all starting to make sense now. Celia’s trip and her smug threats. This was her next play.
“I’m going to sue Celia Arceneaux for harassment,” I said.
The agent flinched, and I knew I’d hit the nail on the head. I leaned forward and stared down at him. “Did you really think I had a still in my shed? Do I look like someone who’s that stupid?”
“All right,” Carter said, his jaw twitching. “Get up and get out of here. I don’t know what you’ve been told and frankly, given the source, I don’t care. That woman is nothing but trouble, and if you’d bothered to do a little research before you started sneaking around, you could have found that out rather easily.”
“So you’re saying these women do not sell illegal alcoholic products?” the agent asked. “Because Mrs. Arceneaux brought a sample.”
“It’s cough syrup,” Gertie said. “Herbal remedy, and we’ve been selling it for decades.”
Ida Belle shook her head. “You’ve been played. There’s nothing here to see but a bitter, angry woman who can’t get the better of three women she hates. You’re welcome, of course, to search our houses and sheds and anything else we own, but you’re not going to find what you’re looking for. She’s wasting your time.”
The two agents got up and the first one shoved his ID back in his suit coat. They brushed the grass off their jackets and glared at all of us.
“This matter is not concluded,” the agent said.
“Sneaking around my town at night is concluded,” Carter said. “You want information, you better be knocking on front doors in broad daylight and holding a warrant. Get out of here. People have lost enough sleep over you.”
The two agents stomped off across the yard toward the front of the house.
“I can’t believe her,” Gertie said. “The ATF? What did she think that would accomplish?”
“Making trouble,” Ida Belle said. “That’s all she’s really after. She probably thought if she fed them a big line of bull, they’d poke their nose around and find a smoking gun she wasn’t aware of.”
“If they’d been smarter about it,” I said, “her plan might have succeeded. At least in my case.”
“Oh my God,” Gertie said. “I hadn’t thought… That bitch. She could have blown your cover.”
I nodded. “This war with Celia is becoming a real problem.”
“I’ll deal with the ATF,” Carter said, but I could tell he was worried about how bad this could have been.
“That only solves this particular problem,” Ida Belle said. “Celia’s not going to stop, and until Fortune’s situation is resolved, she will continue to be at risk.”
“If that woman’s stupid crap forces the CIA to relocate Fortune,” Gertie said, “I swear to God, I’m going to shoot her myself.” She looked at Carter. “And you can put that on record. If Celia gets shot, just go ahead and prepare my cell. I’ll even make it easy and turn myself in.”
I smiled. While I didn’t want to see my friend on trial for murder, I appreciated the sentiment.
Carter held his hands up in the air. “I don’t think it will come to that. Let me see what I can do, and please, let’s all keep our weapons to ourselves.”
“Well,” I said, “since the odds are against two sets of intruders in one night, I vote we go to bed. For real this time. No more patrol.” I looked over at Carter. “Thanks for the backup. I was about to fire a warning shot. That probably would have been a lot more trouble.”
“I suppose just calling, like I asked you to, was out of the question?” he asked.
“Oops,” I said. “Sorry, I kinda went into mission mode and forgot.”
This time, it was the absolute truth. When I’d thought there was someone outside, I automatically shifted into action. My only external concern had been keeping Ida Belle out of the fray.
He sighed. “I figured. Hey, just wondering—how did you get them both on the ground?”
“Oh, I did a flying kick and knocked one into the other,” I said.
Gertie shook her head in admiration. “You must kick like a mule.”
“I would have paid to see that,” Ida Belle said.
Carter smiled. The first time I’d seen him smile in forever. “I would have, too. You ladies get inside and lock up. I’ll be watching things a little longer but I think Fortune is right. I think all the excitement for tonight is over. If anyone else was intending to make a move, all this commotion would have scared them off.”
Ida Belle, Gertie, and I headed for the back door. I could feel Carter’s eyes on me as I walked. What did that smile mean? Was he coming to terms with my outlaw personality that had me consorting with known criminals and generally doing things most girlfriends never even thought about doing?
Or was he simply amused that two Feds got their butts kicked by a girl?
We were a tired bunch at the breakfast table the next morning. Even though we’d all gone straight to bed after the throw-down with the Feds, I was betting no one had slept well. Based on the dark circles under everyone’s eyes, I was also betting no one would take that bet. We all shuffled into the kitchen around 8:00 a.m., poured coffee, and plopped into chairs.
“Who’s up for running a marathon today?” I asked.
“Ha,” Gertie said. “I took a good five minutes to think about whether I was up for getting out of bed. You don’t want to know how long it took me to put on pants. Or take them off, for that matter.”
Ida Belle nodded. “I don’t think I’ve slept this poorly in a long time. Between Hot Rod, the SUV, and Celia, I can’t get my mind to stop worrying, and I’m usually not a big worrier.”
“I’m better at it than you,” Gertie said, “and I freely admit to being near heart attack stage. Something has to give. Either we catch the guys who hurt Hot Rod or we kill Celia. At this point, I’m not sure which one presents more difficulty.”