“Ha!” I said. “I was close with that car salesman guess. But why haven’t I met the guy? Usually insurance salesmen hit up someone new in town before they’ve even unpacked.”
“He bowed out of the business for the last few years for the most part,” Ida Belle said. “I assume he draws a percentage off of existing policy renewals, but he stopped actively seeking new clients himself a while back. Rumor has it he inherited a good amount when his mother died, so he probably doesn’t need to work anymore.”
“He was a good salesman, though,” Gertie said. “He was always a looker and had that smooth personality. That and his acting ability had most people trusting and liking him, and so he did a good business.”
Ida Belle frowned. “If only he’d been a better parent.”
“I take it his acting ability didn’t extend to being Mr. Mom?” I asked.
Ida Belle shook her head. “He mostly left Liam to his mother to raise. Even when he purchased his own house, I think Liam still spent more nights at Josephine’s than he did with Gil.”
“And then there was the Tiffany disaster,” Gertie said.
“Who’s Tiffany?” I asked.
“Tiffany is from Mudbug originally and was Liam’s girlfriend,” Gertie said. “Until she married Gil.”
“Wow!” I said. “I did not see that one coming. Definitely not parent of the year.”
“Not even of the afternoon,” Ida Belle said. “As far as I know, Gil and Liam haven’t had much to do with each other since then.”
“I can’t imagine they would,” I said. “So how did Gil die?”
“I just heard about it yesterday so I don’t really know much,” Ida Belle said. “Apparently, Gil had finished up rehearsal in New Orleans Monday night and was in the parking lot about to leave when he was held up. He was shot once in the chest and the guy made off with his Mercedes. Far as I know, the police haven’t found the car or the shooter.”
“That car is probably on a container ship ready to go overseas,” Gertie said.
Ida Belle nodded. “That is one of the criminal benefits of boosting cars where there’s a port.”
I slouched back in my chair, my mind trying to process everything I’d learned. When I finally sat back up, I stared at Ida Belle and Gertie.
“But why was he strapped headless to a horse?” I asked.
Gertie shook her head. “That is the $64,000 question.”
I woke up the next morning feeling invigorated, which left me at somewhat of a mental impasse. Was it wrong to be excited over a headless dead man riding a horse through the park? Since he’d been killed days before, I wasn’t sure where the line between respect for the dead and intrigue over the Headless Horseman routine was drawn.
Merlin was feeling especially irritable and had run across my forehead at 6:00 a.m. Then he’d proceeded to pounce on imaginary bugs—mostly on my body—until I’d gotten out of bed to give him breakfast and then let him out for a bathroom break. I knew he was aggravated at his limited outdoor time but I’d already been warned that black cats sometimes disappeared around Halloween. So it was best to keep him inside more than out, especially after dark. Unfortunately, only one of us understood the reasons.
I poured coffee and sat down at my kitchen table, mulling over everything Ida Belle and Gertie had told me the night before. Carter hadn’t come by or called but that didn’t surprise me. That crime scene must have been a bear to try to work, and he had the crowd, the body, and the horse to deal with. And that was just in the park. I didn’t even want to imagine how informing the widow about her husband’s night ride had gone.
I figured he’d be into work early but I wasn’t about to call. Since he had a job reporting to other people, and the hours could be erratic, I mostly let Carter call me. So if I called him up at the crack of dawn, he’d know I was poking my nose into police business. And since I didn’t have a viable client to put it back on, then he’d take his usual line and tell me to butt out.
No way was I butting out of this one.
When a dead man rides a horse through the Halloween festival and loses his head and Celia ends up holding it, that was entirely too much temptation for someone like me to resist. My phone signaled a text. Ida Belle.
You up?
I texted back that I was up and dressed. Her reply was immediate.
At Francine’s.
Since breakfast at the café sounded light years better than the somewhat stale bread I’d been considering for toast, I polished off my coffee, then wrangled Merlin back inside, which was getting progressively harder every time I had to do it. I’d started with cat treats but now I was up to canned tuna. Before the end of the week, I might have to offer up raw fish and a sacrifice.
It took me ten minutes and a disgruntled stare that should have turned me into a pillar of salt before I got him back inside, then I grabbed my keys and wallet and hurried out the door. The café was always busy on a Saturday, but it usually picked up a bit later in the morning. It wasn’t even 7:00 a.m. and I had to park at the other end of the block. I figured more than the usual customers had ventured out to get the gossip about the Headless Horseman, which was probably why Ida Belle and Gertie had headed out so early.
“I see the masses are ready to descend,” I said as I slipped into my seat, trying to avoid looking people in the eye.
“They always think we know something,” Gertie said.
“That’s because we usually do,” Ida Belle said. “Add to that Fortune is hooked up with Carter and I’m married to his uncle, and they really think we have the inside track.”
Gertie sighed. “If only that were true. Heck, we’d get more random information if that wasn’t the case. Carter probably expends twenty percent of his daily energy trying to figure out how to keep Fortune in the dark about his cases. And Walter would definitely prefer you stayed out of that line of work as well.”
“Sadly, all true,” I agreed.
“Speaking of the closemouthed devil,” Ida Belle said, “I don’t suppose you’ve heard anything from Carter.”
“Not so much as a text,” I said. “But that’s not surprising.”
Ally popped over to our table and grinned down at us. “Aunt Celia called me last night ranting about pressing charges against Gertie for throwing a head at her. She said two years in a row is intentional, not coincidence.”
“She threw first last year,” Gertie said. “Besides, since I didn’t behead either of them, I hardly see how this was my fault.”
“You know Aunt Celia,” Ally said.
“Unfortunately,” Gertie said and we all laughed.
“You guys want your usual?” Ally asked. “Francine has a Halloween special today.”
“What is it?” I asked, always interested in new food offerings.
“Lobster and cream cheese crepes,” Ally said.
“I might have just gotten a little woozy,” I said. “Hook me up with that. Do you have any muffins?”
Ally nodded. “Blueberry and banana nut.”
“Blueberry, please,” I said, and leaned back in my chair, already anticipating an excellent meal.