“Possibly,” I said. “But then we’ve only seen him twice and he was angry both times. For all we know, he might sing opera while petting kittens every night.”
Gertie giggled. “Now there’s an image. You definitely have a way with tall tales. Another forty years or so, and you won’t be the newcomer anymore.”
“Another forty years in Sinful and I’ll probably be locked in a padded room,” I said.
“Well, what’s on the agenda for tonight?” Gertie asked.
My cell phone signaled an incoming text and I frowned.
“Looks like I’ll be filling Carter in on my new case,” I said. “The basics, at least. He’s on his way over now.”
Ida Belle popped up. “That’s our cue. If he says anything about the van, tell him I meant what I said about making good on it. Seems even more important now if Ally really is inheriting the business.”
“And see if you can find out if there was a will,” Gertie said. “And whether the blood on the anchor was Molly’s and how old it is. And if—”
Ida Belle yanked Gertie’s arm. “Carter is two minutes away from this house and the last thing he wants to see right now is the three of us together.”
“Fine, fine,” Gertie said. “But only old people have dinner and turn in at this hour.”
“Well, it’s too late in life to make me into one of those bar whores,” Ida Belle said.
“I have a good stereo system, plenty of wine and food, and we can talk about your honeymoon,” Gertie said.
“Woman, no one is talking about my honeymoon. Not even me and Walter to each other.”
I laughed as they headed out the back door, probably hoping to skirt the front of the house as Carter was walking in. Ida Belle was so done with wedding stuff I hoped she still showed up for the actual event. Carter called out from the front door and I told him I was in the kitchen. He had a key and could use it any time, but he persisted in the belief that warning an armed woman before entering her house was the right call. I was offended by his lack of trust at first until his mother told me he did the same thing at her house. Since I knew Carter had nothing but respect for Emmaline, I couldn’t exactly hold a grudge.
He walked into the kitchen, his pace a bit slower than usual, and I could see the tired and sad in his expression. I pointed to the chair as I rose, and he slumped into it while I grabbed him a beer and a container of Ally’s cookies. He took a drink of the beer but barely glanced at the cookies. I didn’t even have to ask. I already knew.
“You talk to the DA yet?” I asked. The DA was young and enthusiastic, which was good, but sometimes all that enthusiasm was tough when you were a cop with few to no leads.
“I tried to get away with an email,” he said, “but my phone rang about two seconds after I sent it.”
“Murder cases are big feathers in DA hats,” I said. “I don’t suppose he’s planning on hanging out in a small area any longer than he has to. The more he can beef up his résumé beyond assault and poaching, the better.”
“I know, but it still seems wrong to be so excited about other people’s loss, not to mention the victim. I mean, the funeral home benefits when people die but they don’t seem eager about it.”
“Probably because they have no intention of pulling up stakes for a bigger market and the added benefit of not having to seek out business. The clientele is kind of built in. But I get your point. I’m really sorry about Molly. I only just met her yesterday but I liked her.”
He nodded. “I only knew her from a couple events she catered. She wasn’t much on law enforcement, as you can imagine, but she allowed as how she’d heard I was one of ‘the good ones’ so she would probably let me eat without arm wrestling her for the privilege.”
I laughed. “That sounds like her. And you’re lucky your reputation preceded you. You’re no lightweight but I’d put my money on Molly in an arm-wrestling match.”
“So would I.”
“Listen, I know your day sucked probably more than mine even, although you didn’t get chased by giant rats.”
“I’d think the bear would have been a larger concern.”