“We should go look for her,” Gertie said.
“Wouldn’t that be interfering with police business?” Ida Belle asked.
“I don’t think so,” I said. “Last time I checked, taking a ride in a boat wasn’t a crime. Around here, people’s boats probably have more hours logged on them than cars.”
“Very true,” Gertie said and jumped up from the couch. “And a lot of people have been known to take a boat ride during hot weather to get some outside air but not sweat to death. If you guys wouldn’t mind hosing me down before we leave, that would be great.”
It actually didn’t sound bad, now that she’d mentioned it.
“Good idea,” I said as we headed outside. “If we get caught, we tell Carter we’re playing wet T-shirt contest.”
“As long as I get to win,” Gertie said.
“You’re not winning if Carter’s voting,” Ida Belle said.
Gertie shook her head. “The game is always rigged.”
“Only if you’re playing,” Ida Belle said. “Let’s get going. I’d like to think Molly can take care of herself and she just went boating for peace of mind or fishing for a new dish she thought up. But anybody can be got if the desire is strong enough.”
“And accidents can happen on boats,” Gertie said.
“Sort of an understatement coming from you,” Ida Belle said. “I’m surprised boats don’t flee when they see you coming.”
“Or insurance companies,” I said as I grabbed the hose.
Five minutes later, we were soaking wet and flying down the bayou. The water, which had felt like bathwater when it was hosed on, combined with Ida Belle’s driving speed, was now offering up a bit of cool. If I hadn’t been worried about Molly, I might have enjoyed myself.
Ida Belle had indicated that Molly’s property had a bayou out back where her dock was. That bayou fed into a larger channel that split off in a million directions, a few of which dumped into the lake. So we were going to scan the lake first, then start down that larger channel and hope that Carter wasn’t coming straight toward us. He couldn’t arrest us for boating, but no way he was going to buy our wet T-shirt story. He’d know exactly what we were doing.
We hit the lake in record time and Ida Belle slowed as she headed for the center. Gertie handed me binoculars from the storage bench and I scanned the area, looking for Molly. I spotted a couple of commercial fishing boats and a ski boat full of teens, then several bass boats, but they all held men.
“Anything?” Ida Belle asked when I lowered the binoculars.
“No,” I said. “All the bass boats are guys.”
“You sure one of them isn’t Molly?” Gertie asked. “I mean, they’re wearing caps and from a distance…”
“Heck, from up close she could look like a guy,” I said. “But they all have beards. I don’t care how much testosterone she has, she still can’t grow a beard in one afternoon.”
Ida Belle nodded. “Then we’ll head up the channel.”
I barely got the binoculars tucked in by my side before she took off across the lake at two billion miles per hour. It might have been terrifying if it hadn’t been so exhilarating. Gertie was hooting from her seat in the bottom of the boat when Ida Belle made a sharp right and the boat skimmed the top of the water sideways as we turned into the channel.
She slowed down in the narrower body of water. Not because she couldn’t go faster and definitely not because she didn’t want to, but because I needed to be able to hold the binoculars to my eyes and scan the marsh for any sign of Molly. Gertie pulled out another set and hopped up on the bench seat now that we were slow cruising and helped me look. We did ten minutes of scanning up the channel but never spotted her.
Ida Belle cut the accelerator. “There’s her dock and her bigger boat isn’t there.”
“Does the bayou continue past her dock in the other direction?” I asked.
“It does,” Ida Belle said. “But it dead-ends at a freshwater dam. It’s decent fishing there, although more so at night, but if that’s where she was, you would have already heard from Carter. Deputy Breaux was on boat patrol today and he would have been sent there first to check.”
“Do many people come this way?” I asked.
“Not really,” Ida Belle said. “There’s better fishing a dozen other places.”
“So it’s unlikely someone would have seen Molly unless she went into the lake,” I said.
Ida Belle nodded. “Maybe we should head back to the lake and ask around.”
“I think so,” I said.
“Grab your butts,” Ida Belle said.
Gertie flopped down in the bottom of the boat on her custom cushion, and I moved to the very back of my seat and gripped the arm bars with both hands, clutching the binoculars in between my thighs and hoping I had the strength to hold once she got going. She took off at full speed and it was worse than a day at the gym. Weaving around the corners, barely skirting overhangs and cypress roots. Even fish fled in the other direction, skipping across the top of the water as they made their escape.
When we reached the lake, she took a hard right and Gertie involuntarily vacated her cushion. At least she was already in the bottom of the boat. The first couple times we’d gone out in my airboat, Gertie had attempted to sit on the bench but the potential for disaster was so high, I’d had her a memory foam cushion specially made so she could be secure in the bottom of the boat. Well, mostly secure.
She pushed herself upright and gave Ida Belle the finger without looking back. I held in a grin and then suddenly, Ida Belle cut speed completely and I leaned forward, clutching the handrails so that I didn’t pitch out of my seat. She pointed ahead of us and I saw a couple of older local guys in a bass boat. They were some distance away but it was beyond rude to approach people quickly when they were fishing. Even if someone was missing.
She inched closer to the fisherman and lifted her hand to wave. They recognized us and lifted a hand back. We pulled up within loud talking distance and they both stared at us, expectantly and just a tad bit impatiently.
“You guys seen Miss Molly today?” Ida Belle asked.
They both shook their heads.
“But if she’s fishing, I don’t think I’d go tracking her down for food and stuff,” one man said. “That woman is scary.”
“It’s not that,” Ida Belle said. “Her boat is missing and there seems to be some concern that she’s in danger. So we were trying to find her and reassure ourselves that she’s all right.”
“Can’t imagine who could take that woman out,” the second man said. “Unless maybe it was you with a long-range rifle, or that pretty blonde there that you run with.”
“If you see her, will you tell her we were looking for her?” Ida Belle asked.
Their eyes widened and they both shook their heads.
“No ma’am, we won’t do that,” the first man said. “But I’m happy to call and let you know if we spot her.”
“Cowards,” Gertie grumbled.
I couldn’t say that I blamed them. If Miss Molly was really out fishing, either for dinner or relaxation, then accosting her probably wouldn’t end well. She struck me as the type of person who liked to choose when she interacted with people. And heading out on your boat alone said only one thing to me.