miss fortune mystery (ff) - targed by the tempest Read Free Page B

than making her ride in the trunk.”
    “You wouldn’t…” Walter raised his eyebrow.
    “Oh yes I would. She made me ride in her trunk after that last concert we went to,” Gertie huffed, “and I wasn’t even passed out like she is. She’d never know.”
     
    “Stuff’s like glue and it’s extremely flammable. I always tell her not to use so much, it’s downright dangerous. If there were any open flames close, this whole motel would be toast.” Gertie said as she used the damp washcloth to wipe off a strand of Ida Belle’s hair.
     
    “She’s gonna be in a world of hurt tomorrow,” Walter said after they got Ida Belle settled in her bed. “I’m starving, we didn’t eat all day. I’m gonna walk down and grab some food from that Whataburger down the street. I think it’s still open,” he glanced at his watch. “You want anything?”
    “I’ll drive us, I hear they keep the drive-through open later than the restaurant, even though it’s really not that late, not as late as it feels anyway,” Gertie picked up her bag and snatched the door key off the dresser. “I didn’t think I wanted anything, but now I’m hungry. And I really want a milkshake, chocolate, I think.”
    “Wait a sec,” Walter paused, “do you think we should just leave her?”
    “Well, she’s not going to go anywhere,” Gertie snickered. “Not tonight, for sure, and probably not tomorrow, either. Wow, look at that moon! It’s beautiful.” The full moon had risen while they’d gotten Ida Belle settled. “She’s gonna hate that she missed this, you know. She loves Whataburger and she loves full moons.”
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     

Chapter 3 - Wednesday morning, September 4, 1974
     
    “You’ve got to see this!” Walter exclaimed as he came into their cabin and turned on the TV. “There’s a hurricane barreling through the gulf.”
    “Oh dear, not another one?” Gertie looked up from the microwave oven where she was melting a square of cocoa butter to treat her sunburn. The melting cocoa, combined with the coffee that was percolating, made the cabin smell delicious.
     
    They’d stopped in the small town of Milam, Texas on Tuesday night to eat dinner before crossing the Pendleton bridge into Louisiana. Gertie had noticed a small general store not far from the diner that was still open and insisted on going in to buy baby oil before they got back on the road. Her sunburn from the concert had moved into the dry-itchy stage and she didn’t want to peel.
    She was delighted when she found not only the baby oil, but also a bar of real cocoa butter. Ida Belle had bought coffee and donuts. Walter resupplied his stock of bourbon and beer, saying that was the one thing he loved about the state of Texas, no dry parishes.
    “No parishes period,” Gertie had chuckled. “They call them counties here.”
     
    Walter hadn’t wanted to buy a Texas fishing license so they’d decided to stay on the Louisiana side of the lake. After driving up and down some small roads, they’d discovered a recently built fishing resort with vacancies not too far from the bridge.
    “Wow, fancy!” Walter said, “I didn’t know there was a microwave oven in here too.” Walter was staying in a small bed and bath only cabin, but Ida Belle and Gertie had a double bedroom with a kitchenette.
    Gertie had offered the second bedroom to Walter, saying she and Ida Belle wouldn’t mind sharing. Walter said he didn’t care about the bedroom but he didn’t want to share the only bathroom with the ladies. “Two women with one bathroom is already one too many,” he’d chuckled.
    All the cabins were ‘shotgun’ cabins, which meant if you opened both the back door and the front door, you could shoot a bullet straight through.
    The front doors led to the parking lot and the back doors led to a picnic area with tables and outdoor grills. The resort office, with a grocery and bait shop connected, was located at the top of the ‘U’ shaped