Nearly Departed: Miss Fortune World: Sinful Stories, #1

By Shari Hearn

You're invited to the hottest bash in Sinful, Louisiana. It's Gertie's Tenth Annual Funeral (because why have a funeral after she's gone and can't hear all the good things people say about her?) and she's pulling out all the stops, hoping to make this year's celebration the best one yet.

Only someone has a different idea. Someone wants to take the f-u-n out of "funeral" and tries to turn fake-dead Gertie into real-dead Gertie.

Who would want to kill Gertie? And why? And can Fortune and the Geritol Mafia stop him before he attempts to kill Gertie again?

Nearly Departed is the first in the Sinful Stories series, a fast-paced novella set in the world of Jana DeLeon's Miss Fortune Mysteries, complete with a splash of suspense, a dollop of humor and a pinch of heart.

A WORD FROM THE AUTHOR: Nearly Departed was first published on April 27, 2015 as part of the Miss Fortune Kindle Worlds program (which ended in July of 2018). It is now part of the Miss Fortune World published by J&R Fan Fiction. I wish to thank Ms. DeLeon for graciously allowing other writers to explore their own writing in a most Sinful way.

Sinful Stories is a series of stories written by Shari Hearn within the Miss Fortune World featuring Fortune, Gertie and Ida Belle. They may be read in any order; however, they do follow the timeline of Jana DeLeon's Miss Fortune series with regard to Fortune's relationship with Carter. With the earlier books in the series, Carter doesn't know Fortune's true identity. As Jana DeLeon's series changes with regard to Fortune's continued threat from Ahmad, future stories within Sinful Stories will reflect those changes.

Currently, the stories within Sinful Stories include:

Nearly Departed
Mutiny on the Bayou

Overdue
Nearly Beloved

Rematch
Leaving Sinful
Murder on the Sinful Express
 

• Language: English
• Publisher: J&R Fan Fiction
• Release date: Aug 17, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386324072

Book preview

Acknowledgements

MANY THANKS TO JANA DeLeon, first for writing such amazing characters and creating the town of Sinful, and second, for allowing other writers to write our own stories set in the world of Miss Fortune.

Thanks also to Kathleen and Carla for your wonderful notes.

Cover by Susan Coils at www.coverkicks.com

CHAPTER ONE

WE’RE GATHERED HERE to mourn the passing of Gertie Hebert.

Yuck!

I slammed my pen on the table, ripped the page from the notebook and wadded it up into the size of a golf ball. An hour and two cups of coffee, and all I had to show for it was a hundred balled-up wads of drivel that filled my backpack. It didn’t matter that Gertie wasn’t really dead, and the eulogy I was writing was fake. It bothered me. And I had no idea why.

Care for another refill, Fortune?

I looked up. Ally was standing by my table, coffeepot in hand. I was so engrossed in the eulogy that I almost forgot I was sitting in Francine’s, waiting for Ida Belle and Gertie to show up.

Oh thanks, I said, sliding my mug over to her. I could use more caffeine.

Ally eyed the forest of paper wads. How’s the eulogy coming?

Just great. I have a hundred variations of ‘welcome to Gertie’s funeral.’ I rubbed my eyes. Don’t you think this whole thing’s a little weird?

Ally shook her head. "Are you kidding? Gertie’s fake funerals are a Sinful tradition. And they’re fun. She always hires the best entertainment. Last year it was a magician who sawed her in half while she was lying in her coffin. This year Lady Lamé and Her Divas from Down Under are headlining. They’re guys, by the way."

No kidding, I said, tapping my pen on the notepad.

Ally shrugged and poured my coffee. I think everyone should have a fake funeral. Why wait till you’re dead and you can’t hear all the good things people say about you?

The bells jangled above the door. A man stepped inside.

Just over six foot. Early forties. Blond hair sticking out from under his Sinful Sluggers baseball cap. Hates Yankees. Threat level: High.

Ally pointed toward a table near the kitchen. Take the two-top in the back, Fred. I’ll be with you in a minute. 

He glanced at the two-top, then at me. Why does the Yankee get to have a table for four by the window and I get stuck in the hinterland? he asked.

Because the Yankee got here first and is waiting for someone. I’d been wanting to take this guy on since I first arrived in Sinful. Is that okay by you?

His eyes were like steel. But it was his hands I was most interested in watching. If it looked like he was going for a gun, I’d have to be ready for mine in my waistband. And no, I wasn’t being paranoid. This was Sinful, where it seemed every other resident was packing. But he just shook his head, walked to the back and sat.

Wimp.

I poured cream in my coffee, ripped open a packet of sweetener and tapped half the granules in.

Don’t let him get to you, Ally said.

The squeaking suspension of Gertie’s ancient Cadillac outside signaled my breakfast dates had arrived. I watched as they got out of the car, Ida Belle still in curlers, Gertie’s bulging purse causing her body to tilt to the right. The shock of their door slams shook the old Caddy, the front bumper slipping a couple of ticks lower. The car reminded me a little of the one Thelma and Louise drove into the Grand Canyon. After it was plucked off the canyon floor, of course.

And then I spotted trouble—Celia Arceneaux, Sinful’s temporary mayor—storming from across the street and barreling toward them.

This doesn’t look good.

Ally turned and glanced out the window, shaking her head. Aunt Celia’s probably trying to shut the funeral down. She does this every year. Tries to find some permit that Gertie didn’t get or find some loophole to stop it. She just can’t let Gertie have her fun. If you ask me, it’s because Celia knows when her time comes, there won’t be many people in this town who’d show up at her funeral and say something nice about her. So she’ll be damned if people gather and say nice things about Gertie.

We couldn’t hear everything they were saying through the glass, but it didn’t matter. You didn’t need to be an expert lip reader to decipher some of the most interesting swearword combinations on Earth spilling from Gertie’s mouth. And it only intensified when Celia pointed to Gertie’s bumper, held up to the car by a piece of rope.

Uh-oh, here comes Gertie’s middle finger, I said, taking a sip of coffee.

Is Celia flipping her back?

Trying to anyway. Has she never flipped a bird before? Looks like one of her wings is clipped.

Ooh, Ida Belle just shook her head so hard a few curlers flew off.

I spotted Sinful’s sexiest deputy, Carter LeBlanc, crossing the street toward them. Here comes the cavalry.

Several of Francine’s customers stood up from their chairs to get better views of the action. There was nothing like a fight between three hot-tempered old ladies to tear people away from their breakfasts. Most were calling out support for Gertie. Fred, the Yankee hater, stood from his chair, craning his neck to see past the people standing in front of him. Show the Yankee lovers who’s boss, Celia! he shouted, before sneering at me and plopping back in his chair.

Carter stood between Gertie and Celia and seemed to be doing a good job of calming Gertie down, until he must have said something she didn’t like. She mouthed a word to him that I’d never seen or heard coming from her mouth before. A collective Oooooh went up in Francine’s as Gertie turned on her heel and pushed her way inside. Even the jangles above the door sounded angry. Ida Belle was close behind.

Honestly, Gertie hissed as she stormed over to my table, yanking out a chair and dropping into it.

You tell her, Gertie! one of Francine’s customers shouted, prompting a few claps and cheers.

Ida Belle held up her hands. Okay, thanks for all your support, but show’s over. Go back to your eggs. She took her seat next to Gertie. Damn woman made me lose a few of my curlers.

Do I dare ask if you want coffee? Ally asked.

I want coffee and the biggest, fattiest breakfast you have, Gertie said. I deserve it.

Short stack for me, Ida Belle said.

I ordered eggs and a side of turkey sausage. After Ally filled Ida Belle’s and Gertie’s mugs, she turned and headed back to the kitchen. 

She tried to shut your funeral down, huh?

Ida Belle nodded. And when she realized she couldn’t do that, she tried to get Carter to arrest Gertie for having her bumper tied with rope.

Gertie’s hand shook as she poured cream into her coffee. Do you know how many Sinful residents tie their bumpers with rope?

A good seventy-five percent?

Sounds about right, Gertie huffed. "But somehow my rope is an eyesore. And I put a new one on just yesterday. She blew on her coffee, then took a sip. But the worst part is, she’s making Carter miss my funeral. He has to do some stupid city thing with her."

I glanced out the window. Celia waved a handful of Gertie’s funeral fliers in Carter’s face. It hadn’t been easy for him since Celia became temporary mayor. It hadn’t been easy on the town, either.

That new rope does look nice, I said, trying to calm Gertie down.

Ida Belle winked at me. Yep, nothing says high-class ride more than a new white rope holding up the bumper.

Don’t you start, Gertie said. My bumper money went into hiring the Divas for my funeral, so the rope will have to do for another month. Gertie’s eyes landed on my open backpack sitting next to me on the floor, stuffed with paper wads. Her gaze then traveled to the pad and pen on the table in front of me. A pad with no words written on it. Please tell me you’re writing my eulogy in disappearing ink, she said, pointing to the empty sheet of paper.

Um... about your eulogy...

She folded her arms and lifted a brow. As a CIA assassin, I had risked my life to get close to some of the most dangerous people on earth. People like Ahmad, the arms dealer who had put a price on my head, causing me