I looked at Gertie. “Do you have more fireworks? And dynamite?”
“Is the pope Catholic?” Gertie asked.
“The pope wears a funny hat,” Francis said. “Nobody prays for Celia. They don’t want her in heaven.”
I grabbed a grape off the table and tossed it to Francis before we headed upstairs.
It took a couple minutes for Ida Belle and me to get over the shock of what Gertie stored in one of her upstairs bedrooms and another fifteen minutes to find just the right combination of items—according to Gertie. I was more than a little concerned that one shelf in the room was dedicated solely to handbags, all with the retail tags still intact.
Finally, Gertie was loaded up with the latest in bottle rockets, smoke bombs, and enough dynamite to level a small office building, so we headed out. We had just turned onto the highway when Gertie leaned forward and looked at Ida Belle and me.
“So is anyone going to tell me where we’re going and why you have me carting around things you normally don’t want to know about?” she asked.
It was only then that I realized in my rush to get us out the door, I hadn’t even told Gertie why.
“You rushed Tricky Ricky out of your house and don’t even know why?” I asked.
“You said we had to hurry,” Gertie said.
“And that’s all it took?” I asked.
“Look, you wind up in the middle of a lot of drama,” Gertie said. “But you don’t instigate any of it. If you wake me up first thing and ask me to pack up dynamite and rush out the door, I figure there’s a darned good reason.”
I grinned. It was so great to have ride-or-die friends.
“So is anyone going to tell me why we’re hurtling down the highway in the time machine at”—she checked her watch—“8:00 a.m.?”
“Fortune thinks she knows how Silas killed Johnny,” Ida Belle said.
Gertie let out a huge yell, then grabbed her head. “Awesome! How?”
“She hasn’t told me yet,” Ida Belle said. “I just knew we needed to hurry.”
“So where are we hurrying to?” Gertie asked.
“Silas’s house,” I said. “There’s something I have to check before I go accusing the man of murder. I need evidence. It has to stick.”
“And why do you need dynamite?” Gertie asked.
“I’m going to need a diversion,” I said.
“So you can do what?” Gertie asked.
“Get Silas out of his house.”
They both stared.
“You’re going to go into Silas’s house?” Ida Belle asked. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”
“It is if he’s not in it,” I said. “Hence, the necessary diversion.”
“Can we just blow up the house with him in it?” Gertie asked.
“That would blow us right past a trial and to the sentencing,” I said. “I’d like to get evidence and let him rot in prison. I can’t do that without the house intact.”
“And what is it you think you’ll find?” Ida Belle asked.
I told them.
Ida Belle pulled into the convenience store parking lot and as I’d expected, our friends were already in their chairs, having a cup of coffee. They perked right up when we pulled in, both grinning as if Publisher’s Clearing House had just pulled up with checks. They both struggled a bit but insisted on rising as we approached. I couldn’t help smiling. Old-school manners still charmed the heck out of me.
“Good morning, ladies,” Jeb said. “You’re out awfully early.”
“We are, and we’re here to see if you can help us with something,” Ida Belle said.
“Of course,” Wyatt said. “What do you need?”
“Do you have a boat?” I asked.
They both stared at me as if I’d lost my mind.
“Never mind,” I said. “I need someone to take me down the channel in a boat.”
“We can do that,” Jeb said. “Can we ask why?”
“It’s your boat,” I said. “You can ask anything you’d like. I’m going to have you drop me off on the land behind Silas’s house. I want to sneak up on him.”
They looked at each other, clearly worried.
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” Wyatt said. “Old Silas is a mean one. He’d sooner shoot you as talk to you. I’m surprised you got away without some buckshot in your vehicle at least.”
“It’s very important,” I said. “You see, I think Silas killed Johnny and if I can get onto his property without him knowing, then I think I’ll be able to prove it.”
Their eyes widened, and I would have bet money their pulses had just shot through the roof.