Ida Belle started up the boat and continued on. About halfway around the lake, we spotted another boat. As we inched up, the man with the pole in the water looked up from what appeared to be a nap. He spotted us and waved.
“Hey, Nickel,” Ida Belle said. “Good to see you out in the fresh air.”
Nickel and his brother, Whiskey, owned the Swamp Bar, but it was usually Whiskey who kept things running. Nickel, who’d gotten his nickname from a five-year stint in prison, was a repeat jail visitor. Mostly his offenses were minor now but with his record, judges didn’t tend to give him any slack.
He grinned as we approached. “I don’t know how fresh it is, but it’s still good to be out in it.”
“Maybe you can cut your brother a break and stick around for a while,” Ida Belle said.
“Oh heck, Whiskey’s got that bar running on autopilot,” he said. “If anything, I get in the way. Best thing I can contribute is fresh seafood, which is why I’m out here today.”
He reached over and opened an ice chest to show us a couple of large redfish.
“Nice,” Gertie said.
He nodded. “Couple more and we’ll have enough for a big stew tomorrow night. Whiskey’s redfish stew always brings in the crowd.”
“How’s your daddy doing?” Ida Belle asked. The brothers’ father had terminal cancer and doctors had said he didn’t have much longer back last year. Apparently, their father wasn’t in agreement and was still hanging in.
“He’s in bad shape,” Nickel said. “But you know the old coot is too stubborn to go. Can’t walk much anymore without help, and we can’t keep any weight on him no matter what we feed him. But ain’t none of that stopped him from dressing us boys down, so I’d say he’s doing all right.”
“He always was a tough guy,” Ida Belle said. “Let me know if we can do anything.”
“I appreciate it,” he said. “So what are you ladies doing out today? I don’t see any fishing gear.”
“We’re looking for Miss Molly,” Ida Belle said. “You seen her?”
“Nope,” he said. “Hadn’t seen any womenfolk out today at all, not that I’d ever refer to Molly as womenfolk. Least not to her face.” He gave Ida Belle a curious look. “Why you looking for her?”
“Her boat’s gone from the dock and no one can raise her by phone,” Ida Belle said. “Apparently, she called a friend who couldn’t make out much of the phone call, but she heard enough to think something was wrong. She called Carter and he went to check but so far, hasn’t no one seen hide nor hair of her since this afternoon.”
“She’s got that aaaaasss…boyfriend.”
I smiled. I knew what he’d been about to say. “The boyfriend doesn’t know where she is, either,” I said. “I take it he’s not on your fishing buddy list.”
“No way,” he said. “That dude is bad news. Comes into the bar and gets stinking drunk, hitting on wives and girlfriends. Like anyone’s going to take him up on that crap. First off, he’s obnoxious and not all that pretty to look at. More importantly, everyone knows he’s with Molly. Ain’t nobody fool enough to jump in front of that train.”
“Does Molly know he does that?” Ida Belle asked.
Nickel shrugged. “No idea. Guess someone might have told her, but it would have to be someone with big ones. I wouldn’t want to deliver that kind of message to Molly. Would you?”
“No,” I said. “It might affect life expectancy as sometimes the messenger gets taken down with the guilty party.”
“Exactly,” he said. “Anyway, if I see her, I’ll give you a call but it’s been quiet out here today. Too hot for most people. They’ll come out in an hour or so when the sun starts setting. I wouldn’t worry much about Molly, though. She can take care of herself. If people can’t find her, it’s probably ’cause she don’t want to be found.”
“Probably so,” Ida Belle agreed. “Thanks, Nickel. And stay out of trouble.”
“I’m going to try,” he said.
“I wonder if Molly knew her boyfriend was trying to pick up other women at the Swamp Bar,” I said as Ida Belle pulled slowly away.
“Hard to say,” Gertie said. “Normally, you can’t keep something that blatant a secret in a place like Sinful, but Nickel’s right—people might be afraid to tell her. Still, I suppose someone could have made an anonymous phone call or sent her an email from a fake account. Her email is on her website.”
“Or sent pictures or video for that matter,” Ida Belle said. “The days of ‘he said, she said’ about public displays of bad behavior are over. Seems most everything you do outside your house is recorded by something.”
I frowned. “Her boyfriend looked awfully mad today.”
“You mean after he got his butt whupped?” Gertie asked. “Maybe someone did tell her.”
“You think he did something to her?” I asked.
They looked at each other, then shrugged.
“I don’t know anything about him,” Ida Belle said. “Never even knew she had a boyfriend until today. Molly isn’t one for small talk and definitely not for personal talk.”
“I couldn’t even tell you his name,” Gertie said. “He’s not from around here. That’s about all I know.”
“Maybe she imported him from New Orleans,” I said. “Where to now? There’s no one else on the lake. I guess everyone’s headed home.”
“I don’t want to give up,” Gertie said. “If Carter had found Molly, he would have sent a text at least.”
“I don’t want to give up, either,” I said. “I just have no idea where to start. There’s a million places a person in a boat could go around here. You two are going to have to make your best guess and we’ll start there.”
“That’s a tough one with Molly being such a private person,” Ida Belle said. “If this was a regular search-and-rescue, we’d have a dozen or more volunteers and could split up territory, but with only us…”
She scanned the lake for a bit, then shook her head. “Since we know Molly didn’t like the stop-and-chat, maybe we start on some of the lesser-used bayous.”
“That makes sense,” I said. “Maybe the ones closest to the channel that runs by her house first, then we can spread out from there.”
Ida Belle nodded and Gertie and I prepared for launch. A couple minutes later, she turned into a smaller channel and slowed so that Gertie and I could use the binoculars to search.
“I picked this one because there’s not so many trees in between bayous,” Ida Belle said. “From this one, you should be able to see two or more to the right.”
“Will we be able to see her boat with the grass?” I asked.
“Her console is high enough that I’m hoping you can, but I can’t be sure,” Ida Belle said.
She continued down the bayou as Gertie and I scanned the area for any sign of a boat. We’d probably traveled a mile or better when I spotted sunlight reflecting off something one bayou over.