Swamp Sniper by Jana DeLeon

a movie without popcorn?” Gertie yelled.
    “If you’re going to eat popcorn, you have to stand in the hallway,” Ida Belle shouted back.
    I stalked to the microwave, determined to restore peace if it was the last thing I ever did. “Wouldn’t it just be easier to move the rug? Because I have every intention of eating and drinking and I’m not going to stand in the hallway to do it. Nor am I going to sit at the kitchen table with you two squabbling as my only source of entertainment. Because I have to tell you, you’re not all that entertaining.”
    Ida Belle stared at me. “Who pissed in your cornflakes?”
    “You did. And her. The two of you are like battery acid tonight. One more word and I’m going home. Carter can get someone else to babysit. If I wanted children, I’d give birth.”
    “Touché. I suppose we’re both a little on edge.”
    “Well get off the edge. Roll up the damned rug, pop this popcorn, grab us a couple of beers, and let’s get this show on the road. I am so tired of conflict, I’m ready to join a Zen cult.”
    “I don’t think they’d approve of your chosen profession,” Ida Belle said. “Fine, we’ll roll up the damned rug and cart all manner of food and drink into the living room. What are we watching anyway?”
    “I don’t know. Gertie picked.”
    Ida Belle grabbed the bag of popcorn and shoved it in the microwave. “Probably another one of those horrible chick flicks.”
    “For your information,” Gertie said as she strolled into the kitchen, “I rented The Expendables 1 and 2.”
    I held in a grin. “A bunch of old mercenaries getting involved in things they have no business doing. How appropriate.”
    “You are really catching up on modern film,” Gertie said approvingly.
    “The other night, I watched a Rambo series marathon.”
    The microwave dinged and Gertie rushed over to remove the popcorn. She ripped into the bag, then dropped the entire thing into the bowl and ran to stick her fingers under cold water. Ida Belle shook her head, pulled the bag from the ends, and dumped the popcorn into the bowl.  
    “She’s never going to learn,” Ida Belle said as she walked past me and into the living room.
    I grinned and grabbed three beers from the refrigerator before traipsing behind her. The opening credits had barely finished when the doorbell sounded. We all froze, then looked at one another, probably all afraid that whoever was outside brought more bad news.  
    Finally, Ida Belle got up and opened the door. “Damn it, Marie,” she said as she waved the other woman inside. “Why didn’t you call? We all thought you were Carter coming to arrest me.”
    “Oh, I’m so sorry,” Marie said, clearly dismayed that she’d given us a scare. “But I needed to tell you something and that woman got me so flustered with her talk—tell her right away, don’t use a phone because they might be listening—I thought I’d have a heart attack on the way over here.”
    “What in the world are you talking about?” Ida Belle asked. “What woman? And sit down before you pass out.”
    Marie dropped onto the couch, clutching her purse. “Babs Gaspard. That friend of Celia’s.”
    “What in the world did Babs say that’s got you so upset?”
    “It wasn’t what she said. It was all that spy stuff. Do you really think someone is always listening to our phone conversations, because I got into a fight with my cousin the other day and said some things about her I’d rather not be repeated, even though they were true.”
    “Your cousin Shirley?” Gertie asked.
    Marie nodded.
    “That makes sense,” Gertie said. “Most everything said about Shirley is true.”
    Ida Belle waved a hand at Gertie. “Forget about Shirley. And forget what that silly woman said. No one is listening to your phone conversations.”
    “Are you sure?” Marie asked and looked over at me.
    “I’m fairly certain,” I said. “It’s not as easy as one might think to get an order for a wiretap