Mary-Alice Arceneaux parked her Oldsmobile 88 in front of Harriet’s Books, shut off the engine, and peered into the rearview mirror. She checked her teeth, reapplied her coral lipstick, and reached to open the glove box for her travel brush.
Mary-Alice wanted to look her best for the official start of her new life in Sinful, Louisiana. She had made up her mind that she would not rebuild in Mudbug. Mary-Alice wanted to forget about the fire and all of the other unpleasantness, and it was hard to do that with her neighbors whispering behind her back. Fortunately, her house had been fully insured. And the Sinful real estate market was such that Mary-Alice could afford to buy anywhere she liked.
As the glove compartment popped open something slid out and landed with a thunk on the floor mat. Mary-Alice undid her seat belt and reached over to pick it up.
It looked like a black pane of glass with rounded edges. About the size of a book, but much thinner, and surprisingly heavy. Mary-Alice was pretty sure she knew what it was. Beulah Monroe in her crafting group had something like it.
She turned the key in the ignition to restart the air conditioner, pulled out her phone, and called Mudbug Auto Body.
“I just picked up my car this morning,” Mary-Alice explained to the receptionist. She had to shout over the sound of the air blasting from the vents. “1999 Oldsmobile 88, Dark Caribe Metallic. You fixed the front end and replaced the bumper. Such a lovely job, and you left the car so clean. Thank you. Oh dear, I’m rambling. I called to tell you that someone in your shop left a computer tablet in the glove box. You know what I’m talking about? The kind you can read books and watch movies on.”
The receptionist put Mary-Alice on hold, and after a long time came back on the line to tell her that nothing was missing from the shop. The tablet must have been in the glove box when the car was towed in.
It had to be Caden’s, then. The thought cast a shadow over Mary-Alice’s bright mood. She took a deep breath and punched in the number for her grandson’s lawyer.
The man didn’t even let her finish her first sentence.
“Mary-Alice, the item you describe is not Caden’s.”
“But Audy, he’s the only other person who drove my car. I’ve already called the body shop, and they told me it doesn’t belong to anyone there.”
Mary-Alice heard the man take a deep breath. She imagined Audy puffing himself like an old bullfrog, something Mary-Alice noticed he did when he wanted to seem large and important.
“Now see here, Mary-Alice. Your grandson, that is to say, my client, has no knowledge of any device that may have been found in your glove box.”
Mary-Alice hadn’t mentioned the glove box.
“I see. You’re telling me it’s not Caden’s. May I keep it, then?”
“I can’t answer that.”
“Well, it certainly isn’t mine. Shall I bring it to the police?”
Mary-Alice pulled the phone away from her ear as the lawyer had what sounded like a choking fit.
“No. No, no, no. There’s no need to do that, Mary-Alice,” the man sputtered when he had recovered. “I can’t tell you what to do, of course, and this is not to be construed as legal advice. But if I were in your place, I would take it to an electronics recycling drop-off where it can be disposed of properly,”
“But Audy, you haven’t even asked Caden. What if he needs…I see. Well, thank you for your time.”
As she pressed the disconnect button, she realized what was going on. The tablet most likely did belong to her grandson. But his lawyer didn’t want to risk unearthing any more incriminating evidence.
Maybe if she hadn’t sent Caden to computer camp when he was a boy…no, he would have simply found some other way to get himself in trouble. Caden had Joe Arceneaux’s blood in his veins. There was no getting around it.
Heartsick as she was over her grandson, Mary-Alice knew there was no point in dwelling on unpleasant things. She locked the tablet back in the glove box, switched off the engine a second time, and went into Harriet’s.
The bookstore’s interior smelled of scented candles and old paper. The early afternoon sun slanted through the large front windows and lit up the sun-faded hardcovers on display. Mary-Alice took her time browsing and eventually picked out a mystery, two steampunk novels, and one romance, Passion’s Promise. Something about the author photo appealed to her. Perhaps buying all of these books wasn’t the most frugal thing to do, but now that Mary-Alice had decided to move to Sinful for good, she wanted to be a good neighbor. She had seen her favorite bookstore in Mudbug close, a year to the day after the big chain store moved in. Then, not five years after that, the chain store itself had shut down.
Mary-Alice paused, scooped up a few more books, and finally tottered over to the counter carrying as many books as she could hold. As the woman at the counter was ringing her up, Mary-Alice got a good look at the author photo on the back of Passion’s Promise. Gertie Hebert. Was it the same Gertie she knew? The one who had stopped by with her two friends that terrible night, and saved her and Celia from the fire? The picture looked vaguely like the same woman she had met, only a couple of decades younger, and wearing a scandalously low-cut blouse with sharply-padded shoulders.
“Excuse me,” Mary-Alice said, “but is this Gertie Hebert the same Gertie who lives here in Sinful?”
Mary-Alice Moves In
Mary-Alice Arceneaux has decided to make her home in Sinful! Mayor Celia's sweet-natured and curious cousin is eager to settle into small-town life after moving from the big city (Mudbug, Louisiana). But before Mary-Alice can even unpack her bags, a man of the cloth dies under mysterious circumstances, a device with strange powers turns up in the glove box of her Oldsmobile 88, and her new friends, Ida Belle, Gertie, and young Fortune, are behaving oddly…even for Baptists.
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