miss fortune mystery (ff) - jewel of the bayou by amy jo belford Page B
Authors: amy jo belford
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looked around again.
“And why is it so dark in here? And why is this place such a mess?”
“Well, you’re full of questions, aren’t you?” He sat back on his haunches and looked up at me. I hadn’t noticed his eyes before, but now I couldn’t look away. Something about that shade of blue seemed to be making my stomach flutter.
“Yes, I am,” I said. “And I’ll start with the most important one. Who are you, anyway?”
“I’m Jack,” he said, and he stood up.
He held out a hand, and I took it. He might be a murderer or a thief, but at least he was remembering his manners.
“Pleased to meet you, Jack. I’m Lindy.”
“Lindy,” he said, and nodded.
“Next question,” I said. “Why is this place such a mess? You weren’t ransacking it, were you?”
“Ransacking? No. This mess is all thanks to the folks who go to this church. They’ve got some peculiar Baptists in these parts.”
“Then you’re not from around here?”
“Nope, just passing through.”
“Ah ha!” I said, and I started to look around for another hymnal to throw, just in case.
“Settle down,” he said. “I’m here to take pictures.”
“Pictures?”
“That’s right. For the, uh, Church Directory.”
“Oh,” I said, and suddenly it made more sense. The dim lighting, the crouching on the floor where I could see cords strung along to an electrical outlet.
“Oh!” I said again. “You’re getting set up to take portraits.”
“Yep, and maybe you haven’t put it all together yet, but I’m not ready,” he said. “Which is what I’ve been trying to tell you ever since you barged in on me. You want your picture taken, you’ll have to come back this afternoon or tomorrow just like everyone else.”
“And what I’ve been trying to tell you, ever since you decided to lunge at me like some sort of ax-murderer, is that I’m just here to go to church,” I said.
“And you’re too late for that. You want to find the Baptists? Fine. I’ll show you where you can find your Baptists. Then maybe I can get back to work, and you can get yourself some lunch.”
“What is it about you and lunch, anyway? Do I look like I’m starving?”
‘You’re looking just fine,” he said, and there was that grin again. “All I’m saying is that if you want to catch some Baptists, you’ll have to go where they are. And I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again… They’re at lunch.”
“Oh,” I said. “Well. In that case.”
“In that case,” he said, and he walked me back up the aisle.
Chapter Two
I walked through the door of the café and was greeted by a hubbub that would put a bee hive to shame. When Jack had pointed me toward Francine’s Café I had thought that he was joking about finding a congregation or two inside, but I discovered that it isn’t the size of the restaurant that counts – it’s how tightly you can pack the people in.
“There she is now!”
The shout cut through the buzz, and I looked around to see whose voice could slice through a crowd like that. I saw her over at a long table crowded with ladies in their Sunday best. Elderly ladies, I should say. And one of them was waving frantically at me.
“Hey, there!” she shouted again. “We thought you’d never get here!”
I was confused, but not as confused as she must have been. Clearly she had mistaken me for someone else, and I walked over to explain the situation. A middle aged woman carrying a tray full of lunch plates and iced tea glasses caught my eye, and nodded toward an empty chair at the table before disappearing through the swinging doors to the kitchen. Honestly, it seemed like everyone was confused around here.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, with my best, sweet smile. “I think you’ve confused me…”
“Shhhh,” she hissed in reply. “Don’t say a word, or the Catholics will catch on!”
She grabbed my forearm, and pulled me down into the empty chair.
“Why, you don’t say!” she exclaimed
“And why is it so dark in here? And why is this place such a mess?”
“Well, you’re full of questions, aren’t you?” He sat back on his haunches and looked up at me. I hadn’t noticed his eyes before, but now I couldn’t look away. Something about that shade of blue seemed to be making my stomach flutter.
“Yes, I am,” I said. “And I’ll start with the most important one. Who are you, anyway?”
“I’m Jack,” he said, and he stood up.
He held out a hand, and I took it. He might be a murderer or a thief, but at least he was remembering his manners.
“Pleased to meet you, Jack. I’m Lindy.”
“Lindy,” he said, and nodded.
“Next question,” I said. “Why is this place such a mess? You weren’t ransacking it, were you?”
“Ransacking? No. This mess is all thanks to the folks who go to this church. They’ve got some peculiar Baptists in these parts.”
“Then you’re not from around here?”
“Nope, just passing through.”
“Ah ha!” I said, and I started to look around for another hymnal to throw, just in case.
“Settle down,” he said. “I’m here to take pictures.”
“Pictures?”
“That’s right. For the, uh, Church Directory.”
“Oh,” I said, and suddenly it made more sense. The dim lighting, the crouching on the floor where I could see cords strung along to an electrical outlet.
“Oh!” I said again. “You’re getting set up to take portraits.”
“Yep, and maybe you haven’t put it all together yet, but I’m not ready,” he said. “Which is what I’ve been trying to tell you ever since you barged in on me. You want your picture taken, you’ll have to come back this afternoon or tomorrow just like everyone else.”
“And what I’ve been trying to tell you, ever since you decided to lunge at me like some sort of ax-murderer, is that I’m just here to go to church,” I said.
“And you’re too late for that. You want to find the Baptists? Fine. I’ll show you where you can find your Baptists. Then maybe I can get back to work, and you can get yourself some lunch.”
“What is it about you and lunch, anyway? Do I look like I’m starving?”
‘You’re looking just fine,” he said, and there was that grin again. “All I’m saying is that if you want to catch some Baptists, you’ll have to go where they are. And I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again… They’re at lunch.”
“Oh,” I said. “Well. In that case.”
“In that case,” he said, and he walked me back up the aisle.
Chapter Two
I walked through the door of the café and was greeted by a hubbub that would put a bee hive to shame. When Jack had pointed me toward Francine’s Café I had thought that he was joking about finding a congregation or two inside, but I discovered that it isn’t the size of the restaurant that counts – it’s how tightly you can pack the people in.
“There she is now!”
The shout cut through the buzz, and I looked around to see whose voice could slice through a crowd like that. I saw her over at a long table crowded with ladies in their Sunday best. Elderly ladies, I should say. And one of them was waving frantically at me.
“Hey, there!” she shouted again. “We thought you’d never get here!”
I was confused, but not as confused as she must have been. Clearly she had mistaken me for someone else, and I walked over to explain the situation. A middle aged woman carrying a tray full of lunch plates and iced tea glasses caught my eye, and nodded toward an empty chair at the table before disappearing through the swinging doors to the kitchen. Honestly, it seemed like everyone was confused around here.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, with my best, sweet smile. “I think you’ve confused me…”
“Shhhh,” she hissed in reply. “Don’t say a word, or the Catholics will catch on!”
She grabbed my forearm, and pulled me down into the empty chair.
“Why, you don’t say!” she exclaimed
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