Gwyn gave her a small smile. “Thank you. I need to keep reminding myself of that. Is that all you need from me? Because I’d really like a long shower and an even longer cry. Maybe a pint of chocolate mint ice cream.”
“That’s all,” I said.
“And we’re really sorry for your loss,” Gertie said.
Gwyn gathered her purse and left, still sniffling. Ida Belle gave me an appreciative nod.
“You nailed that one,” she said. “The hunch that there was another woman, where to find her, and then the woman herself. You’re batting a thousand.”
“It just made sense,” I said. “We know Tiffany never really cared for Gil and I’m sure he knew that too. Pair him up with someone who loves acting but is another much younger woman, who is an easy target and will worship him because she’s got her own issues that need addressing, and you’ve got Gil’s next move. Honestly, given what I know about him, I’m surprised it took him this long.”
“Maybe it didn’t,” Ida Belle said. “He could have had others before her but never made a move to change his current situation.”
“But why wouldn’t he?” I asked. Romantic relationships were still somewhat of a mystery to me.
“Didn’t want anything serious with the other women, most likely,” Gertie said. “Being married is the best way to avoid having to get married.”
“Ah,” I said. “So do we think Gil was serious this time? Or was Gwyn just another passing fancy?”
They both shook their heads.
“It’s impossible to say,” Ida Belle said. “Unless he actually talked to that attorney about a divorce.”
I frowned. “And that attorney is not going to talk to us, even though Gil is dead.”
“No,” Ida Belle said. “But he’d have to talk to Detective Casey. I just don’t know that it’s smart to feed her information. Puts her in a bad position with her captain if he’s keeping a close watch, and he doesn’t sound like a picnic.”
“Yeah, I’m keeping my mouth shut on everything for the time being,” I said. “If I thought there was any risk to others, I would say something, but it looks like Gil was the only target. And I have no doubt Casey will make it back around to the troupe soon, following the same line of inquiry that we did.”
“So I guess we head home now?” Gertie asked.
I tapped my fingers on the table and stared out the window.
“Maybe we should drive by that attorney’s office,” I said. “You know, just to see.”
Ida Belle laughed. “You mean to see what kind of security system he has?”
“I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
The office of Randoll P. Maxwell, Attorney at Law, was just outside the French Quarter in the business district. It was very quiet there given the hour, as most of the businesses closed in the evening. Randoll’s office building was one of the newer ones, with five stories and glass sides. A quick check online listed Randoll’s office on the second floor. There were staircases that led to the second-floor walkway on each end of the lobby. In the middle of the lobby was a desk with a security guard.
“A live guard,” Ida Belle said and frowned.
“Harder to bypass, but not impossible,” I said. “And guarded means the individual offices probably don’t have alarms or cameras.”
“Even if you could get by,” Gertie said, “there’s still lobby cameras and I don’t have any masks since they exploded in my purse.”
“This is New Orleans,” Ida Belle said. “Masks are the least of our worries.”
I nodded. “Let’s go get some masks. I have a plan.”
Thirty minutes later, we were parked around the corner from the building and getting ready to put my plan in action. The plan was, Gertie was going to wander down the sidewalk, looking muddled, and attempt entry into the building until she summoned the security guard. Once she got inside, she was going to pretend dementia and a need for something that would send him away from the lobby. At that point, Gertie would unlock the door and let me in. I would bolt up the stairs to the second floor, break into the attorney’s office, go through his records, then text Ida Belle to come ‘rescue’ Gertie and distract the guard again while I made my escape.
“Why do I always have to be the crazy old lady?” Gertie complained.
“Because we’re typecasting,” Ida Belle said.
Gertie gave her the finger.
“She’s right,” I said. “Ida Belle is better for the other role, and I’m definitely the one who should be running upstairs and breaking into offices.”
“Fine, whatever,” Gertie said. “But if I have to play some batty old woman, then I’m going to do it up big. I have to have some fun somewhere.”
“The crazier you are, the better,” I said. “As long as the security guard is confused, he’ll break protocol. Just don’t scare him so much he calls the cops.”
She nodded. “Hand me the bags from the dollar store.”
I had no idea where she was going with this, but the next thing I knew, she’d stripped off her pants, revealing lime green biking shorts, and pulled on the cheap robe she’d bought. Then she grabbed the shampoo and a back scrubber and looked at Ida Belle and me.
“Ready,” she said.
“Works for me,” I said and hopped out of the SUV. I donned a pair of gloves from Ida Belle’s SUV stash, then pulled on the hoodie and Mardi Gras mask I’d picked up just before. Ida Belle was ready to go as is and was going to hang back until it was closer to her time to appear.
I followed close behind Gertie and when she reached the building, I ducked behind a trash can right at the edge of the building and waited for the show. Gertie went up to glass doors and pulled on them, but they were, of course, locked. Then she started banging on the doors, cursing at someone named Billy for taking too long in the bathroom. I peered around the edge of the trash can and spotted the security guard as he jumped up from his chair and stared at Gertie, clearly uncertain what to do.
Gertie locked in on him and started waving. “Yoohoo, Martin! Help me out with this door. I have an emergency.”
The guard shifted from uncertain to stricken and hurried to unlock the door. “Ma’am, are you injured?” he asked as he directed her inside.
He led her over to a bench and she sat and started waving the shampoo bottle around. Then she lifted it up and took a drink, then spit it out on the floor. If the security guard could have been swallowed up by the floor, I was certain he would have. I saw Gertie gesturing and the guard nodded, then ran off down a hallway.
I bolted from behind the trash can and Gertie unlocked the door just as I arrived. I dashed up the stairs and barely made it before the guard came rushing back with a cup of water. I waited long enough to watch Gertie dump the water over her head and start rubbing the shampoo in, then hurried off to find the office before I couldn’t hold in my laughter any longer.
I made quick work of the door and located Maxwell’s desk. There was a stack of files on top, so I sorted through those first. Nothing. I headed for the file cabinet next and was glad to see they were filed alphabetically. I flipped through the Fs.