That was my cue, so I grabbed the rope and did a leap onto the bank, then pulled the boat over to the landmass and tied it off. Ida Belle tossed me the backpack of breaking-and-entering equipment, then Gertie handed me her purse. It was heavier than the backpack, which was already cause for alarm, but I knew better than to look inside or even ask. It would just make me worry more, and I needed to concentrate.
I hefted the backpack onto my shoulder, and Ida Belle pointed to the tree line. “If we head straight back, we should hit the back side of Hot Rod’s property.”
“How far?” I asked.
“Quarter mile, maybe?” Ida Belle said.
A quarter mile was nothing walking upright and carrying a light backpack. I’d crawled farther and with heavier equipment. “Let’s get this over with,” I said.
There was no sign of a trail, so we picked the least dense opening and stepped into the woods, then continued to pick our way through the trees and brush, attempting to maintain a direct line from the boat to Hot Rod’s place. Several minutes later, I saw a break in the trees, and the woods opened up to a clearing of swamp grass. Hot Rod’s warehouse was about fifty yards to our right.
“We’re not directly behind it,” Ida Belle said. “I think we got off a bit trying to find a decent path through the woods.”
“Close enough,” I said, and pulled binoculars from the backpack. “Let’s see if we can spot any movement.”
“There’s a car out front that looks like a cop,” Ida Belle said.
Our side view afforded us a look at a piece of the parking lot in front of the building, and sure enough, right there in the middle of a Camry and an Accord was a sheriff’s department vehicle.
“It’s not local,” I said. “It says ‘Mudbug’ on it.”
“Carter needed some assistance and didn’t want the state police in his business,” Ida Belle said.
I nodded. “It’s twenty yards from the tree line to the back of the building, and it won’t take but ten seconds or so to jimmy one of those windows.”
“Then let’s move directly behind the building and get going,” Ida Belle said.
I started to move, but Gertie grabbed my arm.
“Wait,” Gertie said, and pointed at the horse and rider coming around the building.
Sheriff Lee.
“Crap,” I said. “We can’t get into the building with Sheriff Lee and some spare deputy circling it like flies.”
Ida Belle frowned. “We could still outrun Lee. Even with the horse.”
Given that the horse was as ancient as Sheriff Lee, she was probably right, except for one thing.
“The problem is,” I said, “we can’t outrun a bullet. And if he sees someone breaking in, he’s not going to mosey up close to see if it’s just the friendly Sinful busybodies, nosing into a crime scene. He’s going to whip out that gun at his hip John Wayne–style and start firing. I’ve seen him shoot before. It’s not something I care to be in the vicinity of again.”
“He needs to get glasses,” Gertie said. “He can’t see squat.”
Ida Belle and I stared at Gertie for a moment. Given that we’d been yelling all summer for her to get her own prescription updated, it seemed an odd comment, if not ridiculously hypocritical.
“What?” Gertie asked. “I’ll have you know I have an appointment next week. Then you two won’t have anything else to complain about.”
Ida Belle raised an eyebrow. “You’re handling all two hundred things on my list of things to complain about at your eye doctor next week? That’s one talented doctor.”
Gertie shot her a dirty look, then pointed at Sheriff Lee. “You can keep insulting me or figure out what to do about that.”
“What can we do?” I asked. “It doesn’t look like he’s going anywhere, and that means neither are we.”
“We need a distraction,” Ida Belle said. “Something that will draw Sheriff Lee into the woods. That way, we could sneak in.”
“We could step out of the tree line naked and he still wouldn’t see us,” I said.
“What about noise?” Gertie asked. “His hearing’s still decent. Decent enough, anyway.”
“Decent enough to hear what?” I asked, already worried about the answer. “Because if it involves guns or explosives, I’m already voting no.”
“What if it involves tiny explosives?” Gertie asked. She reached into her handbag and pulled out a package of firecrackers.
“It sounds too much like gunfire,” I said. “He’ll come charging this way, ready to shoot.”
“Charging is a bit of a stretch,” Ida Belle said. “It might work. If you threw one, then moved farther into the brush. He wouldn’t be able to move quickly through the brush, with the horse or without. Gertie could draw him away far enough to allow us to get inside, then do it again so we can get out.”
“What about the deputy?” I asked. “We haven’t even seen him. What if he’s a lot younger and quicker than Sheriff Lee?”
“Everyone’s a lot younger than Sheriff Lee,” Ida Belle said, “but I see your point. Maybe Gertie and I should split the firecrackers and once we have their attention, head off in different directions. That should confuse them enough to give you a window.”
As misdirection went, it wasn’t that bad of a plan, except for the part where I was the one assessing Hot Rod’s inventory. Aside from the DeLorean and the Ferrari, I hadn’t paid attention to anything else in his warehouse. If we couldn’t come up with some sort of inventory listing, I wouldn’t have any idea what was missing. But Ida Belle might.
“What if I work the distraction with Gertie,” I said to Ida Belle, “and you do the inventory assessment?”
I explained my reasoning and Ida Belle nodded.
“Hot Rod and I chatted about several of his cars after the test drive,” Ida Belle said. “I probably can’t remember them all, but I definitely recall several of them.”
“Good,” I said. “Will you have any problem with the window?”
“Please,” Ida Belle said. “I could jimmy a window before you were even born.”
“Okay,” I said, not about to ask why Ida Belle had perfected window jimmying in her past life. “Then you move into position directly behind the window on the far corner of the building. When you’re there, Gertie and I will start the distraction maneuver.”
I pulled out my cell phone and checked the service. “We have decent cell reception here. Ida Belle, when you’re ready to leave the shop, send us a text and we’ll start up the fireworks again.”
Ida Belle nodded, grabbed the backpack of tools, and headed off through the woods. Gertie broke the package of firecrackers in half and handed some to me.
“Lighter?” I asked.
She pulled a couple packets of matches from her purse and handed me one. “I’m old-school.”
I took the matches, wishing I had a lighter but considering the source, we were probably better off with Gertie going old-school. I didn’t want to think about the combination of a leaky lighter and whatever else she had in that handbag.
“When Ida Belle is in place,” I said, “we’ll set off one firework to draw attention. When they come this way, then you and I will split off in two directions, lighting new fireworks about every ten yards. You go back toward the bayou so you’ll be closer to the boat. I’ll go north and work my way back around.”
“Okay, but I want to throw the first firecracker.”
“Of course. It’s your stash.”