The Lost Weekend: Miss Fortune World: The Mary-Alice Files, #10

By Frankie Bow

Mary-Alice Arceneaux has started a new career at age 70 as the newest member of the Sinful Ladies' Detective Agency. She is happily learning the principles of detection from Ida Belle, Gertie, and Fortune--and of course, picking up tips from her beloved mystery novels. But Mary-Alice finds herself on the wrong side of the interrogation table when her cousin Celia accuses her of a shocking crime. 

Unfortunately, Celia's story looks plausible--at least to a sheriff under intense pressure to make a quick arrest. Now Mary-Alice and the Sinful Ladies have to find out what Celia's hiding, and find it fast...or Mary-Alice will pay with her freedom.

• Language: English
• Publisher: J&R Fan Fiction
• Release date: Aug 18, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386046318

Frankie Bow

Frankie Bow writes two mystery series: The Professor Molly Mysteries, and licensed works in the Miss Fortune World. Like Professor Molly, Frankie works in higher education. Unlike her protagonist, she is blessed with delightful students, sane colleagues, and an adequate office chair.

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Table of Contents

The Lost Weekend (Miss Fortune World: The Mary-Alice Files, #10)

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

From the Author

Trust Fall (A Professor Molly Mystery)

Also By Frankie Bow

Copyright © 2018 by Frankie Bow

All rights reserved.

This story is based on a series created by Jana DeLeon. The author of this story has the contractual rights to create stories using the Miss Fortune world. Any unauthorized use of the Miss Fortune world for story creation is a violation of copyright law.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author and the publisher, J&R Fan Fiction, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Stock art: Pixabay, Freepik, Vecteezy

CHAPTER 1

WHY, I THOUGHT YOU said she could talk, Mary-Alice. Boon St. Clair placed his hands on his knees and bent down to make eye contact with the little brown bird in the cage.

The little brown bird hopped sideways on her perch and cocked her head.

"I’m a good bird," Boon declared.

The bird fixed her beady gaze on Boon but did not reply.

Mary-Alice was relieved to see Boon’s gentle way with the little bird. Mary-Alice had adopted Angela in the course of one of her previous investigations, and in a short time had grown quite fond of her little angel.

Boon stood up and ran his fingers through his silver crewcut.

What kind of bird did you say this was, Mary-Alice?

"She’s a European Starling. Now I know what you’re thinking, Boon, and I can tell you that Angela most certainly can talk when she has a mind to. In point of fact, she was quite talkative when Father Michael stopped by." Mary-Alice’s cheeks reddened under her face powder as she relived Father Michael’s last visit.

A chime sounded from inside Mary-Alice’s handbag. She pulled out her phone and checked the text message.

Oh dear, I’m ever so sorry, Boon, darlin’, but I have to run. Now I know you’ll take good care of Angela, won’t you?

Boon lifted the cage off the dining room table and hooked it on the wrought-iron stand.

Of course I will. And you stay safe, Mary-Alice. Give Gertie and Ida Belle and Marge’s niece my regards. What’s that girl’s name again? Harmony?

"Her name is Fortune. Why, Boon, it was Gertie calling just now. How did you know?"

I know that look, Boon chuckled. You just make sure to take good notes and tell me all about it afterwards. We’ll be waiting right here, won’t we Angela?

Mary-Alice accepted a chaste peck on the cheek and hurried out. As the front door closed behind her, Angela hopped off her perch, strutted to the edge of the cage, and looked Boon straight in the eye.

"Embrasse moi tchew!" squawked the little bird.

Now, wherever did you pick up that kind of language? Boon exclaimed. Well, I see we have our work cut out for us.

CHAPTER 2

THE OYSTER-SHELL-PAVED road glared white in the midday sun. Mary-Alice flipped down the sun visor, which cut the glare a little. She realized she was going twenty miles an hour over the speed limit and reluctantly tapped the brake to slow down. She couldn’t wait to find out what was happening. All Gertie had texted was get over here now carter already here. Carter LeBlanc was one of Sinful’s two deputy sheriffs, so it was certain that something big was going on.

When she’d first moved to Sinful (population 253) Mary-Alice Arceneaux had feared her life would be uneventful. At least compared to Mudbug, which boasted a population of well over 500, and weekly drag races to boot. But Sinful had turned out to be more exciting than Mary-Alice could have imagined.

The minute Mary-Alice pulled her Oldsmobile up in front of the dark-blue Victorian, the front door flew open. On the porch stood a white-haired sprite surrounded in swirls of fluttering rainbow-colored chiffon. The apparition stared down at Mary-Alice, hands on hips, as her diaphanous costume billowed in the breeze.

Mary-Alice locked up and started up the wooden steps, wondering why Gertie was dressed like she was about to audition for Cirque du Soleil.

Miss Gertie, I came over as soon as I got your message. Why, that’s quite an outfit you have on.

What? Gertie looked down at her ensemble. Oh. I was in the middle of aerials class when Fortune texted me. I came right over and didn’t stop to change.

Aerials class, of course. Mary-Alice followed Gertie into the house. Its solid walls kept it a good ten degrees cooler than outside. Miss Gertie, what is aerials class?

Oh, you hang from ropes and such and twirl around. It’s wonderful exercise. Kind of like pole-dancing, but more artistic. Ah, here we are.

Although young Fortune was a newcomer to Sinful, and a Yankee to boot, she seemed well-matched with her late Aunt Marge’s house. Everything about it was no-frills. The furniture was plain and sturdy, the colors were muted, and everything from the chunky kitchen table to the squared-off furniture seemed to have been chosen for its utility rather than for its decorative appeal.

Fortune herself was seated on the solid couch living-room couch, her elbows on her knees. Happily, she was wearing jeans; it would have been courting disaster to sit that way in a dress. Mary-Alice was always amazed by how little of Fortune’s beauty-queen training had seemed to stick. One would think she had never been on the pageant circuit at all.

Deputy Sheriff Carter LeBlanc sat next to Fortune, an untouched glass of sweet tea in front of him on the coffee table. While Fortune’s expression was blank, Carter’s handsome face was unmistakably grim.

Gertie swept her rainbow scarves aside and plunked down in a chair, and Mary-Alice followed her lead.

Okay, Carter said, if we can get started—

He was cut short by pounding on the door. Gertie jumped up and returned with Ida Belle, president of the Sinful Ladies’ Society. Ida Belle went into the kitchen, ran the water, and came back out wiping her hands on a paper towel.

This better be good, Ida Belle plunked down on the couch next to Fortune. I was in the middle of something important.

Ida Belle’s white