There's No Rationalizing Crazy

By Lisa Clancey

Chloe is up to her ears in crazy.
Felicia, one of her best friends, is missing.
Felicia's goofy mother is also missing. Is it related? Her mother is off the wall strange, so who knows?
Chloe is worried and is scared to death for Felicia's safety. Especially, since a body was left in the bed of Chloe's truck.
The body looks familiar but no one knows who it is? Why would someone leave a body Chloe doesn't know in her truck? Does this also have something to do with her missing friend?
Chloe gets partners she doesn't request to help her fine the answers. She likes having someone to bounce ideas off, she just doesn't like to be told how to go about finding the answers to the hard questions.

To top it off, a beautiful detective with the body men drool over has the hots for Chloe's fiancé. She's trying her best to find every reason under the sun to arrest Chloe for the murdered person. Chloe is upset about the body but she enjoys messing with the sexy detective out to get her.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lisa Clancey
• Release date: Aug 31, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463323311

Lisa Clancey

I live in the great state of Louisiana. I have lived in several states but I absolutely love living in the South especially South Louisiana. I'm basically a lazy person which is why my characters are as active as i am. I live with my husband and dog and am active in my community. Not really, i just thought it sounded like something I should say.

Book preview

Chloe Babineaux

Private Investigator

A Chloe Babineaux Mystery

There’s No Rationalizing Crazy

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2018. Lisa Clancey. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce any or all of the contents of this book, in any manner. The author exclusively retains all rights to reproduce, transmit, upload, download, compile, decompile, reverse-engineer, hold in any retrieval system format, scan, photograph, photocopy or fax, distribute via the internet or in any other manner the contents of this book. Without exception, written permission of the author is required for any action relating to the content of this book.

City and most street names are true, but names of restaurants are made up. The names of my characters are made up. If anyone has the same name it is just coincidental.

My friend Cheri who reads this first and tells me as it is. Thank you, thank you for everything.

I love my family for their unfailing support.

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-one

Chapter Twenty-two

Chapter Twenty-three

Chapter Twenty-four

Chapter Twenty-five

Chapter Twenty-six

Chapter One

What the hell? I managed to scream along with my Aunt Harrie. Although, she didn’t yell hell, What was extremely disturbing was the man dressed all in black motorcycle leather yelling something unintelligible and aiming a rifle at us.

We were in the parking lot of the Trent House Plantation with trees bordering the lot near a deep ditch. No one but Aunt Harrie, the man in black and I were disturbing the peace. The cars that were passing the lot were few and far between, so we were privately screaming our heads off.

Where’s Lena? The crazy man screamed.

I don’t know Lena, Aunt Harrie and I said together.

Well, my great Aunt’s name was Lena, Aunt Harrie tried to explain.

No. That would make Lena too old, the crazy man cut her off briskly. He pointed his rifle at us, swaying it back and forth and then settling it on me. You. I know you know where Lena is.

I stepped forward and pushed Aunt Harrie behind me while I answered, I don’t know anyone named Lena. My great Aunt was dead before I was born. I might have sounded brave, but I was scared out of my ever-loving mind.

He brought the rifle up to my head and said hard, Would you guys stop talking about some dead woman? Just tell me about Lena. Addison’s mother.

Okay, wait, I held up my arms in a surrender like motion. I don’t know anyone named Addison either.

You’re lying! He said heatedly and shoved the gun into my chest. Addison’s your friend.

Addison? I couldn’t get my head around it. He was terrifying me, and I couldn’t think clearly. The rifle was pressed into my sternum and was making a dent and forcing air from my lungs. I knew an Addison in school, but we weren’t close friends. He was wearing a motorcycle helmet with a shaded full-face shield which muffled his voice and made it all the more intimidating. Star Wars flashed through my head.

He brought the rifle back, and I could now see after focusing a little better that it was a bolt action hunting rifle. Not easily identifiable so no help.

He cocked it. I broke out in a cold sweat. The 94° end of June weather was making me sweat long before that, but now I was shaking, and I could hear Aunt Harrie start to whimper. I had to do something.

You aren’t really gonna shoot that thing in the middle of the day, are you? There’s a daycare group touring the plantation house. Too many witnesses.

We were standing in the parking lot of the Trent House Plantation. Aunt Harrie worked at the plantation, so my mother and I had met her at the plantation for lunch at a nearby restaurant.

The plantation house was the oldest homestead in the area and was very popular for school children. The plantation held Christmas parties and other events representing Southern life in the mid-17th through late 18th centuries. I helped at events when I could and looked damn good in a 17th-century work dress the times I volunteered. The plantation wasn’t showcasing an event that day, so I was wearing a 21st-century summery blouse and skirt.

You’re right, the muffled man in black said, and at that, he pulled the rifle back and punched me in the diaphragm with it and ran off.

The blow knocked me off balance, and I back stepped sideways into a deep ditch. I don’t know which knocked the air out of me. The punch or the hard landing. I just knew I was dying because I couldn’t catch my breath. I felt my mouth open and close, but nothing was happening. Air was not moving down into my lungs the way it was supposed to. I could hear Aunt Harrie yell something, but since I was dying, I didn’t pay much attention to it.

When I was suddenly able to breathe, I gasped for about five minutes to get enough air into my lungs, so I could function. I ached just below my ribs with each breath, but at least I was alive.

When my breathing returned to normal, I finally heard what Aunt Harrie was yelling. Chloe, you’re laying in water! You’re ruining your lovely clothes.

Really? That was what she was focusing on? My ruined clothes? Not the screaming, gun-wielding maniac? I shifted my eyes to her and called up to her, No, really Aunt Harrie I’m fine. Thanks for asking.

Oh, Chloe, I could see you were fine. Why are you just lying in the water?

I pushed myself up to a sitting position and then to a stand albeit somewhat slowly and replied, I had the air knocked out of me. I wasn’t trying to figure out how to do the backstroke in three inches of water. Thankfully, we only had a short rain shower the day before, so the ditch wasn’t full and flowing with water.

I shouldn’t have said that. Aunt Harrie stumbled back, grabbed her chest and looked a little pale. Oh, crap, Chloe! You could’ve died! That man could’ve killed you!

The sides of the ditch were about three or four feet high, so I brought my knee up and scrambled out very unladylike with my skirt hiked up to my upper thigh. I didn’t care; I had to take care of my Aunt. Aunt Harrie, it’s over, and we’re both okay, I said as I gave her a big hug. She hugged me so tight it hurt my sore abdomen. I gently pushed her away and looked at her face. The color was returning to her cheeks, so I smiled and said, Let’s call the police from inside the souvenir shop where it’s cooler.

The walk to the shop seemed agonizingly fast. I had to walk like I wasn’t sore because I didn’t want to scare Aunt Harrie. I had to keep myself from holding my breath and attempt to breathe normally—not an easy feat.

I took shallow breaths instead of breathing through the pain, but we finally made it to the door of the shop where bam! I was hit in the stomach by a cruel child with a small plastic bat. Oomph!

I bent over and thought I was going to throw up. Correction. I knew I was going to throw up. I stumbled to the bathroom, but the two stalls were occupied, so I grabbed the trash can and emptied my stomach of what had been a wonderful lunch. Two children looked at me like I had the plague and ran out screaming about a weird lady throwing up in the bathroom. A flustered adult entered with a look on her face like she was going to slap me silly until she saw that I had raised my shirt enough to see my bruised abdomen. It wasn’t blue yet, but it was an ugly red color and looked as painful as it felt.

The daycare chaperone gasped, shooed the remaining girls from the restroom and asked, What happened?

I fell out of a tree, I gave her a very believable smile. It could’ve been true. I fell out of trees often as a private investigator. I do mainly insurance fraud work now, but a good tree climb could be beneficial.

Were you the one throwing up? She asked still staring at my stomach even though I had lowered my shirt.

I didn’t comment how I was the only one in the restroom since she rushed the girls out. Yes, sorry about that but all the stalls were taken, and I didn’t want to toss my cookies on the floor.

She crossed her arms and looked at me with a stern expression. Was she going to yell at me for scaring the girls? I was wrong about that assumption because instead, she asked, Did your husband or boyfriend do that?

I smiled again, shook my head slowly and explained—sort of, I have a fiancé, but he didn’t do this. It was all in the line of work.

Work, she didn’t ask it because she didn’t believe me.

I reached into my purse which was still—amazingly—around my neck and shoulder and pulled out a card and handed it to her. Yes, I’m a private investigator, and sometimes I piss people off.

Her eyes widened, and she still looked disbelieving. You get hit often, do you?

No, not often but this time he was de facto batshit crazy. I closed my eyes and groaned, Sorry.

She waved her arms dismissing me and said, Don’t worry about it, it’s just us in here.

I took a deep, painful breath and continued, Thanks, and I really am sorry I scared the girls.

She laughed and said, Don’t worry about it. The other chaperones had to keep the boys from charging in here. They wanted to see the weird lady throwing up.

I laughed with her, and she followed me out the restroom. Once out the door, I heard her tell the others still standing nearby that I had eaten something that had disagreed with me.

I took a few steps away from the group and would have fallen on my rear when I was pounced on by a beautiful, humongous mixed breed black lab but caught my balance before toppling over. I laughed and patted the beast on the head with both hands and cooed, Hey, Chloe. Are you a beautiful doggy? I rubbed her head around her ears and answered myself, Yes, you are a beautiful doggy.

Sit, Chloe! Rose Miller, the shop’s manager, and dog owner said harshly.

It took all I had in me not to sit down, so I patted the poor beast that had the displeasure of being Rose’s dog. She’s fine, Rose. She knows me as a fellow Chloe.

She still shouldn’t jump on people, Rose smirked. Or is that just a Chloe thing?

Rose Miller was the souvenir shop’s manager, and her expression always looked as though she smelled something bad. Her bottled blonde hair was piled up on her head, and her middle-aged body was on the flabby side, but she dressed to the nines in long sleeve dresses even on hot summer days. I couldn’t help but wonder if she was hiding the fact she was now using or had at one time used drugs. If she wasn’t still using, the drugs were still affecting her misguided brain.

I shrugged and answered like she was asking me a genuine question, I don’t normally jump on people. But hey, sometimes the moment comes, and I just go with it.

Aunt Harrie laughed and pulled me away before I could say anything more. Come on, Chloe let’s call the police and get it over with.

Police? Rose asked as if she cared.

Yes, we were mugged in the parking lot a few minutes ago, Aunt Harrie said softly while the touring children were leaving the shop.

Oh, my goodness, Rose said and touched her hand to her chest softly. Was anyone hurt?

No, I answered before Aunt Harrie could. Just feathers ruffled as my mother would say.

Oh, Rose said and looked a tad disappointed and then hid it quickly. Oh, that’s good. I’m so glad no one was hurt.

Something about her was off. I just couldn’t put my finger on it. But then again, she was always fake. Why would this time be any different?

I pulled out my phone and called the police. I didn’t dial 911 because the danger was over. The dispatcher that answered the phone said someone would be right over.

~~~~~~~

As we waited, I studied Aunt Harriett’s profile. I couldn’t help but smile at the resemblance to my mother. Both women were dark blonde, but that color came out of a bottle. My mom told me as your hair grayed, blonde was easier to hide the gray. Both women were average height and weight but where my mother was—should we say, top-heavy—Aunt Harrie was smaller. I took after my Aunt. They had the same mannerisms, and their glasses were even similar; sometimes I had to look a little harder to make sure who I was talking to when they were across a room and standing side by side.

About five minutes later a squad car pulled up in the parking lot, so Aunt Harrie and I walked out of the shop and met the police officer in the lot. The officer was young, too young seemingly to be a cop but maybe that was because he had a couple of pimples on his cheek, but he walked with confidence to us.

One of you called the police about a mugging? He asked without removing his sunglasses.

I didn’t remove mine either; in fact, I put them on as we walked over to him. Yes, I did.

Okay, tell me your names before we get started, he said while taking out his notepad.

My name is Harriett Truman and…

The young officer interrupted her, Your name is Harriett Truman?

I knew what was coming so I smiled and waited for her answer, I look good for my age. Boom!

He laughed, turned to me and said, I’m afraid to ask your name.

I grinned and said, I’m not a president’s wife, I’m Chloe Babineaux. His name tag read Williams.

He wrote our names down and then asked, Okay, tell me what happened.

Aunt Harrie took a deep breath, widened her eyes and was all set to tell him the whole horrid tale when his radio came on. It startled Aunt Harrie and me so that we both flinched.

I couldn’t understand what was coming out of the small speaker, but he obviously did because he held the button down, tilted his head and said some numbers into it and that he was on his way.

Sorry ladies, but I have to go. You can give your report at the police station now and get it over with if you’d like. At that, he turned and loped back to his car and took off.

Aunt Harrie and I looked at each other and shrugged. Now what?

I guess we should go now and get it over with don’t you think, Chloe? She looked as though she wanted me to tell her I’d go alone. She was a witness; she had to go with me.

I looked down at my stained clothes and dried mud stuck to my skin. Before we drive to the police station I need to change. The mud is itchy and crusty, and if I sit down, I’ll crack.

I’ll get you something to change into in the gift shop, Aunt Harrie said while making a face at my muddy attire.

We walked back to the shop, and Rose called out loudly, Sit, Chloe!

My knees started to bend, and then I stood up straight and caught Rose’s smirk. Smirk was her natural expression, so it was hard to tell when she wasn’t smirking.

One day I’m gonna slap that smirk right off her red puckered mouth, Aunt Rose mumbled. I couldn’t help but laugh because her sassy mouth was one of the things I loved about her.

My, you finished the report quickly, Rose said while counting the money in the register.

No, he had to leave so we’re going to the police station to make the report, I said and tried to stop laughing at Aunt Harrie’s mocking look behind Rose’s back.

Take these, Chloe they should fit, Aunt Harrie said and handed me a pair of dark blue girly athletic shorts with a white stripe running down the side and around the hem with the words ‘Trent House Plantation’ in small white letters on the left leg. The shirt was red with the outline of the Trent House in dark blue with the name of the plantation in the center of the house.

She handed Rose her credit card, but I stopped her. No, I’ll pay for those.

Don’t be silly, Chloe, you pushed me behind you and took the hard hit, and besides I get an employee discount. She gave Rose a closed mouth smile and waved a dismissive hand at me.

I’ll pay you back, Aunt Harrie, I said taking the clothes from her and walked to the restroom to change.

While in there I used paper towels to clean off my legs and arms the best I could. The mud was gone, but I still felt grubby. I splashed water on my face which helped cool me off, but it was going to take a little while before I felt as though I wasn’t shaking. I held my hand up to make sure it wasn’t. I didn’t want the cops to think I was coming off a bender. A drink was exactly what I needed. Later tonight when I was safe and sound in my apartment I told myself I’d have a drink, but for now, I had to report a crime.

I walked out to the front of the shop and asked for a bag for my dirty clothes. I thought it might be a good idea to show the police my stained clothes to prove I fell into a ditch. While holding the door open for my aunt, I said, I’ll meet you at the police station, so we can go home afterward if that’s okay with you.

That’s fine since we live in opposite directions from one another. I lived in the center of Alexandria, and she lived on the outskirts, south of town.

Aunt Harrie and I walked to the parking lot and stopped just before reaching the place we were attacked. We both looked around but didn’t see anyone. That was good, but we didn’t notice anyone the first time we walked out here, so it really didn’t make me feel safe. The sweltering heat rising from the asphalt made curvy lines floating above the parking lot, and I broke out in a sweat.

Let’s do this, Aunt Harrie, I said and walked confidently to my truck.

We both had to walk behind my truck since I parked beside Aunt Harrie. Approaching my green Tundra pickup, I noticed something long was wrapped up in a quilt in the bed of my truck—odd because the truck bed had been empty.

Chloe. What’s that in your truck? It wasn’t there when I walked out to get my sweater before going to eat.

I don’t know. I just stopped and stared at it. Something about the shape made me extremely wary.

Did Rick put it there you think? She asked looking at me strangely.

No, he has a truck. If he wanted to haul something around, he’d just put it in his.

I walked to the tailgate and reached over to touch the object. I jerked my hand back quickly. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, I repeatedly mumbled but with increasing volume.

Chloe? I don’t like the way you said that, Aunt Harrie said worriedly.

Sorry, but I could’ve said worse.

That’s not what I meant. Her wide eyes told me I had just made her nervous.

I slowly removed the quilt from the object and jumped back quickly and yelled louder this time, Oh shit!

Is that a foot? Aunt Harrie said with alarm in her voice while grabbing my arm tightly.

I looked at her but didn’t answer. I brought down the tailgate and scooted inside.

What are you doing? Are you crazy? Aunt Harrie was starting to panic.

I have to do this. I have to see who this is. I knelt on the tailgate and turned to look at her, making sure she wasn’t about to faint.

Why? She asked, her voice squeaky.

Why? Good question. Answer: Make sure it wasn’t someone I knew.

I didn't tell her that. I just sat down on the wheel-well and gazed at the part of the blanket where the head would be. I couldn’t make myself move. I just sat there in the blistering sun and burning my butt on the scalding wheel well. I eventually took a deep breath and slowly moved the blanket back with shaking hands and let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding.

Do you know her? Aunt Harrie asked softly.

I shook my head and closed my eyes. No, I don’t know her. I brought out my phone to call 911 when I thought of something I should do before the cops got there.

Why are you taking her picture? You said you didn’t know her. She asked me like the deceased woman was going to slap my phone out of my hand because I was taking her photo.

I didn’t know her. Did I? She looked vaguely familiar. Why did she look as though I should know her? Someone put a woman that looked like someone I knew in the bed of my truck.

Because I need to find out who did this to this lovely lady, Aunt Harrie.

Chapter Two

I couldn’t sit in the bed of my truck and stare at the quilt while calling the police, so I crawled out and closed the tailgate just as I had found it.

I dialed 911, and the dispatcher answered immediately. Nine one one what is your emergency? Said the dispassionate male voice.

There’s a dead woman in the bed of my truck, I tried to say just as dispassionately, but I could hear my voice shaking.

Ma’am? He stopped sounding dispassionate. Where are you?

I’m in the parking lot of the Trent House Plantation.

Did you put her there?

What? No, I didn’t put her there! I was far from dispassionate.

Are you sure the woman isn’t breathing? Did you check for a pulse?

I am not checking for a pulse, and she’s wrapped in a quilt so tightly she can’t be breathing, I snapped.

Ma’am, you should…

What if I tell you I’ll check but actually just stand here, I said dryly. I climbed back into the truck and checked for a pulse. I shook my hand and grimaced as if I had deadly germs on my fingers.

He took a deep breath and asked my name.

I’m Chloe Babineaux, and there’s no pulse. I checked.

The police are on their way, Ms. Babineaux. He most probably didn’t believe me, but that couldn’t be helped.

Thank you.

The dispatcher told me to stay on the line, but Aunt Harrie wasn’t looking too good, so I told him I had to take care of my Aunt and disconnected while he was talking to me. Aunt Harrie gestured to the trees nearby and said, Let’s stand over there in the shade, and you can call your cop brother while I throw up.

Luckily, she walked a few feet away from me while still in the shade of the trees to dislodge her stomach contents. Doing so I didn’t have the full brunt of her reaction to finding a body. I’ve had the displeasure of finding a dead person before, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t feeling a bit queasy. Not that I go around looking for them. Goodness, she was having one hell of a reaction to seeing a dead body.

My twin brother, Cody, was a detective for the Rapides Parish Sherriff’s Department and my fiancé was his partner. It wasn’t easy in the beginning because I didn’t want to date Rick, but he was persistent, and I eventually gave in.

I called Cody and heard laughter in the background. Damn, I was hoping he and Rick had finished eating with the gang that came to town for our friends, Nona and Tony’s wedding. Cody was going back to work, but Rick had planned to take a half day off, and I was going to meet them after lunch.

What’s up, Chloe? Why aren’t you here? He was in a good mood—for now.

I couldn’t tell him about this. He’d tell Rick, and it would ruin the party atmosphere. Oh, I dialed your number instead of Rick’s, so just tell him I’m running late and won’t be able to meet him at the restaurant.

Why? Did you strangle Mama and the police were called? He laughed and said. I heard Rick say something, but I couldn’t understand him.

No, we had a very nice lunch. I could hear sirens getting nearer. I had to hang up before he heard them as well. Tell Rick I’ll see him later and that I got delayed at the Trent House.

Chloe? Are those sirens? He asked suspiciously.

Yes, but they’re going past me. Looks like an ambulance, maybe I can be pretty good at lying.

Chloe, they stopped, and I heard a door slam. That also sounded like a police siren. What’s going on? He snapped.

Are you the woman that called about the body? The police officer asked while walking up.

He spoke a little too loudly because Cody could hear him. We’ll be there as soon as we can, Chloe. Try to stay out of jail. He was so funny.

~~~~~~~

The middle-aged police officer wearing aviator sunglasses talked while pulling out his notepad. They must train to do that since the earlier cop did the same thing. Which one of you called and reported a body?

I raised my hand like I was in school and said, I did.

Your names?

I placed a hand on my chest and said, I’m Chloe Babineaux, and this is Harriette Truman. He raised his eyebrow over his sunglasses and was about to say something, but I butted in. Yes, she looks absolutely gorgeous for her age.

He looked around as if he was searching for a body lying around and then asked, Where is it?

I waved my hand in the general direction of my truck and said, She’s in the bed of my truck. I started to walk toward the truck and added, I’ll show you.

We walked a hundred feet or so to my Tundra, okay, it was probably more like fifteen, but it felt like it was farther away because of the heat and well, a dead body was in it and came to a stop near the tailgate.

Did either of you touch the truck? He asked, peering down at us through his sunglasses.

But then I still had mine on as well. Yes, how else were we going to see what someone had placed in the truck?

I’m sure he rolled his eyes, but I couldn’t see them, so I was hoping but really didn’t care if he saw me roll mine.

Where did you touch? He asked holding his pen and pad like he was ready to write several pages.

The tailgate latch. I moved my hand to the approximate area I had touched. Around this area to open the tailgate and then the inside of the tailgate and the side of the truck when I pushed myself up after sitting on the wheel well.

He wrote all the places down and then asked suspiciously as if I had touched other places, Anywhere else?

Officer Trahan, I said patiently while reading his name tag. Or maybe not so patiently. This is my truck, so I would think my fingerprints would be everywhere.