“My chariot awaits,” she announced grandly, pointing at a battered blue VW station wagon.
“Where’d you get the car?” Brooke asked, jumping into the front seat.
Lizzie handed over the cat. “Shug knew a guy who knew a guy. So for the price of a battery and new tires, I am now the proud new owner. I had it barged over Monday.”
Brooke looked down at Dweezil, who was butting her hand with her head.
“She would like you to scratch her ears,” Lizzie said. “And neck and chin. In that order.”
Brooke did as instructed, and the cat purred her approval. As she scratched the cat, she brooded once again about how to tell Lizzie that she was about to be evicted.
“Oh, hey, that’s Lionel.” Lizzie slowed the car as they approached a young Geechee child. He was barefoot, with a fishing pole propped against one shoulder, lugging a bucketful of fish.
“Lionel, what’s happenin’?” Lizzie called, pulling up alongside him.
“Hey, Miss Lizzie. You give me ride?”
“Sure thing. Hop in the back.”
He wrenched the back door open and slid the bucket across the seat. The smell of fish filled the car. In an instant, Dweezil leaped onto the backseat and began pawing at the bucket.
Lizzie turned to look at the boy. “Did you catch all those fish?”
“I cotched some, but Dobie, he give me some he had extra.”
Lizzie frowned. “Those fish look pretty small, Lionel. They’re not really keepers.”
“Oh yeah, they keepers. My mama gonna keep ’em and fry ’em for supper tonight.”
“Next time, Lionel, they need to be fourteen inches long. Otherwise, you need to throw them back while they’re still alive, so they get big enough to make some more fish babies. If the ranger man comes around and finds you with those little fish, you could get into trouble.”
Lionel shook his head vigorously, sending his dreadlocks flying. “The ranger man already come ’round today. Dobie, he see him coming, so he give me these fish and tell me go home.”
Lizzie rolled her eyes. “Dobie knows better than to keep undersized fish, Lionel,” she said. “It’s probably better if you don’t take any more fish from him.”
“But he’s my friend,” Lionel protested. “He give me money to go to the store to get his smokes and let me keep the change and get me some candy and Cokes.”
Lizzie pulled the car to a stop in front of the Oyster Bluff sign. “Okay, pal, this is as far as we go today.”
She watched the child trudge away. “Dobie is sort of the town drunk of Oyster Bluff. He ignores all the local game and fish regulations. According to Shug, the Department of Natural Resources ranger regularly issues him tickets, but he tears ’em up and ignores the fines.”
“Seems like you’ve settled in and gotten to know the locals,” Brooke said.
“They have a covered-dish supper Sunday nights at the Oyster Bluff community house. Louette invited me.” She patted her belly with a rueful grin. “The food is unbelievable. Baked redfish, shrimp pilau, deviled crab. The island’s not such a bad place once you get used to the humidity and the gawd-awful bugs,” Lizzie said. She slapped at an invisible bug on her forearm and grimaced. “I’ll never get used to the damn no-see-um gnats.” She glanced over at Brooke, noting her glum expression. “What’s wrong? You’re not looking too cheery today. How did your date with sugar daddy Gabe go?”
“It started out great, but then I had to cut the night short because of a crisis at home,” Brooke said. “The thing is, Gabe wants you out of Shellhaven. Like, right away.”
“What’s the big hurry?”
“I’m sorry,” Brooke said. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but the odious Dorcas and Delphine have apparently been kicking up a fuss. They say you’re trespassing, and Gabe agrees that you really don’t have a right to be going through Josephine’s papers.”
Lizzie’s answering smile was enigmatic. “Just wait until you see what I uncovered in those papers. You can tell Dorcas and Delphine to take a flying leap.”
***
“Step into my office,” Lizzie said as they entered the library.
Brooke set Dweezil on the floor, and the cat immediately leaped onto the windowsill.
