“Was the shop hurt?” Ida Belle asked. “All those cars…”
“No one was hurt,” Deputy Breaux said. “That we’re aware of, anyway, and the shop wasn’t damaged. We don’t know what caused the explosion or why it was set off.”
A wave of relief rolled through me when I heard that no one was injured. I’d been worried about the sheriff and his horse ever since I’d seen them pull their racehorse maneuver.
“That’s good that no one was hurt,” I said, “but what can we do for you?”
He shuffled his feet and stared down at the ground. “Deputy LeBlanc suggested I see what you ladies were up to.”
“I see,” I said. “Something happened that Carter has to deal with, and he automatically assumed it was us. If an explosion were out of the ordinary for Sinful, I could see where he might be upset, but there’s been an awful lot of that sort of thing recently.”
Deputy Breaux nodded. “Mostly since you came to town.”
I held in a smile. The deputy wasn’t the sharpest tack in the box, but he was far from stupid. He knew Ida Belle, Gertie, and I got up to all sorts of things we had no business being in the middle of, but he was too polite to come right out and accuse me of anything.
“That’s fair enough,” I said, letting him off the hook. “But this time, it wasn’t us. We’ve been right here hacking bushes all morning.”
“I’ll let Deputy LeBlanc know,” he said. “Good luck with your gardening.”
We waited until Deputy Breaux rounded the corner before smiling. “Nice work,” I said to Gertie.
“I have my moments,” Gertie said.
“Oh, you definitely have your moments,” I said. “Like that handbag explosion. What the heck was in that handbag? And please tell me there was nothing in it that could identify you, assuming there’s anything left that’s not in a million tiny pieces.”
“I would never carry my license in my handbag,” Gertie said. “I’m not even sure I know where it is.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “You failed the eye test and your license expired.”
“That’s why you made an eye doctor appointment,” Ida Belle said.
“Whatever,” Gertie said, and Ida Belle and I both smiled.
“So anyone want to head into the air-conditioning for a beer and a recap of the morning’s events?” I asked.
“We can’t,” Gertie said. “We have to chop up these bushes some more. You know Carter will check, and this isn’t ten minutes worth of work.”
Ida Belle sighed. “I hate when she’s right about things that involve lawn work in hundred-degree heat and eighty percent humidity, but she’s right. Get to hacking. I’ll turn some of the dirt over with the shovel. We can update as we work. You can start by telling me how Gertie’s handbag ended up being an incendiary device.”
I relayed the situation to Ida Belle, who stopped digging and shook her head at Gertie. “That handbag is going to get us all killed one day.”
“Technically speaking,” I said, “that handbag won’t.”
“I’ve got backup,” Gertie said.
“Of course you do,” I said. “So what kind of explosive were you carrying in that bag? And don’t tell me more fireworks, because I kinda know the difference.”
“There might have been a stick of dynamite in it,” Gertie said.
“What the heck?”
“Have you lost your mind?”
Ida Belle and I both yelled at once.
“I shouldn’t even bother asking why,” Ida Belle said, “but why in the world did you have a stick of dynamite in your purse?”
“I must have forgotten it in there from the last time I went fishing,” Gertie said.
“You fish with dynamite?” I asked.
Ida Belle shook her head. “That’s why you’ve had such big hauls lately. If Carter catches you, he’s going to put you under the jail.”
“Given that her current pastime is blowing up the bayou for a slab of trout,” I said, “it’s not the worst idea I’ve heard today. And that’s saying a lot.”
“Everybody fishes with dynamite,” Gertie said. “It’s too hot to sit out there all day.”
I stared. “If everyone fishes with dynamite then I’m moving back to DC this afternoon.”
“Everyone does not fish with dynamite,” Ida Belle said. “Only a few do.”
“A few? What’s a few?” Two sounded like too many to me, especially when one of them was Gertie. “And where is everyone getting this dynamite? It’s not like you can pick up some sticks at the General Store.”
“There’s a guy who works construction who sells it on the side,” Gertie said.
“Good God.” I was positive that construction guy was lifting dynamite from his job. What was even more disconcerting was that the foreman hadn’t noticed the missing sticks. Lord only knew how many other people were boating around with sticks of explosive fun.
“Anyway, that’s not the point,” Gertie said. “There was an accident and I lost a perfectly good handbag and a couple other items, but we’re here in one piece and that’s all that matters.”
I opened my mouth to reply, but there was no use. At this point, it was all over but the lying. I took the clippers to a group of branches and peered through the brush at Ida Belle.
“I know you didn’t have time to find anything,” I said, “but maybe Hot Rod will be okay and he’ll be able to talk to you soon.”
“I don’t need to talk to Hot Rod,” Ida Belle said. “I think I know what he was going to warn me about.”
“How?” I asked. “You weren’t in the shop a minute.”
“It was long enough to pick out what was missing,” Ida Belle said.
“So there were vehicles missing?” I asked.
Ida Belle nodded. “All three black SUVs are gone.”
My heart dropped. No way Hot Rod had sold every black SUV in his shop in the last week.
“Someone’s targeting black SUVs,” I said.
“But why?” Gertie asked.
“My guess is he’s looking for something,” I said. “Something hidden in a vehicle, and our car thief doesn’t know the exact one.”
“So he stole them all?” Gertie asked. “That doesn’t sound like something one person could manage very easily.”
“No. It doesn’t,” I said.
“Whatever they’re looking for, they don’t know where it is, either,” Ida Belle said. “If they did, they wouldn’t have had to take the vehicles. It would have been quicker to search them there.”
I nodded. “So they took the cars somewhere that they could take their time searching through everything. That’s an awful lot of heat to draw, especially when you add attempted murder to the rap. Whatever they’re looking for must be worth a lot of money.”
“Or could implicate them in something worse,” Ida Belle said.
I didn’t want to think about the big crimes that could be associated with something like this. It was too much like The Sopranos, and I wanted small-town problems, like fishing with dynamite. But I couldn’t ignore the facts. Three similar cars had disappeared from a remote location in a reasonably short amount of time, and a man had been struck so hard he might die. It didn’t sound like amateurs.