Chapter 20:

Tit for Tat

Just shy of two am, Trixie and Honey were jolted from their slumber by the slam of the front door. It was followed by a howl of agony. Then, dead silence.

"Sounds like Hallie's home," Trixie told her startled friend, throwing off her sheet. "I guess I should go check on her. Try to go back to sleep, Hon."

"But, Trixie," Miss Wheeler hissed, pulling her covers over her chin. "What if it isn't Hallie downstairs? It could be a Rougarou."

Honey's big eyes were bulging out above the edge of the blanket. The young lady looked like a bug-eyed monster, and Trixie tossed a pillow at her. "I'm sure it's not a Rougarou," she insisted. "If it were, the crazy thing would still be on the porch trying to count our pile of coins, Honey. Unless I miss my guess, what we've got downstairs is a klutzy, flat-footed Zombie with purple steaks in its hair. We don't have any salt left, do we?"

Miss Wheeler giggled. "There's a shaker full on the kitchen counter, "she said. "Just give a yell if you need help sewing Hallie's lips shut, Trixie. I know what a terrible time you have threading a needle."

Trixie smirked as she reached for her robe. On the nightstand, bathed in moonlight, sat four ghost-white figures with "X"s for eyes and pearl-headed pins protruding from their over-stuffed bodies. Miss Belden had pricked her finger three times while the girls had been making those voodoo dolls. There was an effigy for Beau, one for Jim, and another for Brian. Then, of course, not to be forgotten, one representing Miss Sugar-Pops, which was currently being watched over by Spartan's wary eye.

Going for her slippers, Trixie hoped Hallie wouldn't miss her socks. The Sleepyside girl had to wonder what Miss Flip-flop needed with so many, anyway. Hallie's duffel bag had been stuffed full of the silly things when Trixie had gone to "borrow" a couple of pairs, as her baby brother Bobby would say.

The Sleepyside Miss Belden certainly hadn't stolen the crew socks. Surely Hallie would have been more than happy to have given them to her cousin if she'd been there? The girls were family, after all.

OK, OK, so Trixie knew she'd swiped the socks just as the sticky-fingered Idaho girl had the poppet. And Trixie had had to promise Honey that she'd use the last of her trip money to buy Hallie replacements when the girls and Dan were in town on Thursday afternoon.

But as she headed for the captain's ladder, Trixie decided she and Honey's little craft project had been worth every penny. The girls had had a ball sticking pins in the creepy pincushions while they'd been discussing their case. Why, Trixie's sides still hurt from laughing so hard. And even Honey had to admit the release of pent-up hostilities had been mighty good therapy.

Only as the New York Miss Belden reached the living room, she began to wonder if she and her partner might have been toying with something they shouldn't have. Clicking on the table lap, Trixie found Miss Flip-Flop splayed across the convertible couch, still dressed from the get-together at Charlotte's. Beau's friend had indeed died Hallie's hair to match her toenail polish. But there was also a nasty bruise rising on the young lady's calf that was just about the same shade of purple. So it was with a gulp of guilt that Trixie recalled sticking a pin or two in Voodoo Doll Hallie's grotesquely long leg.

The New York young lady hoped the girls' happy jabs and stabs wouldn't come back to haunt them three times over! She and Honey had only been playing a silly game. In their heart of hearts, neither girl had truly wished any harm to come to anyone.

Then Trixie decided she was being ridiculous. "You OK?" she asked her nearly blinded cousin.

"Yeah," Hallie grumbled, throwing an arm over her blackberry eyes. "Bumped my shin on the coffee table stumblin' in, is all. How come you and Hon didn't leave the light on?"

Trixie placed her hands on her hips and glared at the free-and-easy girl. "We figured the Rougarou was going to get you, so there wasn't any need," she returned snarkily. "I'm really surprised you and Cap stayed out so late, Hallie."

Hallie, who wasn't in the mood to be looked down upon or lectured, reached over and snapped off the lamp. "Bird-brain decided to ditch the big shin-dig when all y'all decided not to go," she revealed, leaving Trixie in the dark.

"Cap, let you go by yourself?" the startled New Yorker gasped. That didn't sound like Hallie's teenage babysitter in the least.

"He thinks I hung out with you and Hon instead," Hallie revealed with a little chuckle. "What can I say? The kid's a chump, Cuz."

The Idaho girl hadn't bothered to make up the sofa. So Trixie somewhat hesitantly removed the afghan covering the deer's head above the fireplace and placed it over the scantily clad young lady. The last thing Papa needed was one of his deckhands coming down with the croup.

"If you ask me, that wasn't smart, Hallie," Trixie said with an air of disapproval. "You're going to be miserable come breakfast time."

Hallie didn't recall asking her cousin what she thought, and she rolled over on her stomach. "Only if I'm forced to eat another plate of your runny scrambled eggs," she mumbled, already half asleep. "I woulda thought Auntie taught ya how to cook, a heap better than that, Cuz?"

Trixie bristled but didn't bother to reply. It was pointless. The big musk-ox had already begun snoring.

So, instead, the cheesed-off girl headed back to bed. As far as Trixie was concerned, the great gator-hunting princess could sleep through her morning meal. Miss Party-Girl could expect her wake-up call from Uncle Zach!

Only upstairs, as Trixie crawled between the sheets, Miss Belden received her own unsettling wake-up call. Emanating from deep within the swamps behind the resort, the shaken girl could have sworn she'd heard someone playing a tom-tom. The repetitive DA, dum, dum, dum, DA, dum, dum, dum, DA, dum, dum, dum, seemed strangely far away. Yet the drum beat quickly became one with the thump of Trixie's heart, stirring her blood.

The hypnotized girl felt drawn to seek out the source of the trance-provoking noise. And yet she was too paralyzed to even to wake Honey. Before her glassy eyes flashed images of shadowy feathered poppets dancing rings around their thumping Voodoo Queen. The enchanted dolls were laughing, cursing, and blowing kisses to one another.

Oh, how Trixie wanted the maddening noise to stop! The ghastly visions to go away!

And then, like magic, the bayou fell silent.

And all Miss Belden heard was the hiss of Chip-Tooth Chucky as he made his nightly patrol of camp.

"I don't know if the two are related," Trixie told her best friend as the pair dressed for breakfast later that morning, "but to be on the safe side, I think we ought to burn those voodoo dolls we made in the fireplace just as soon as Miss Sugar-Pops and the others leave, Honey. That drum beat I heard was pretty other-worldly. I think it's possible we stirred up some kind of ancient force last night. That ugly bruise on Hallie's leg is awfully coincidental, don't you think?"

Miss Wheeler agreed. She wouldn't breathe easy until the sock figures were nothing but a pile of ash. "I do hope Brian's OK," Honey fretted, stroking her hair with her hair brush.

Tucking her shirt tail into her blue jeans, Trixie said ditto about Jim. She was still a tad miffed with the boy with the wandering eye. But that didn't mean Miss Belden didn't care about him deeply.

And Honey smiled. "I thought you planned to get dressed up for Beau today?" she said lightly.

Trixie had been having second thoughts about throwing herself at the young Cajun. Miss Belden knew she'd been impulsive in her decision to do so. In fact, after sleeping on it, the dopey idea was nothing short of cringe-making. But Trixie wasn't about to let on that she was being wishy-washy again. "I'll put on the dress before we go to town," she said. "I wouldn't want to spill Mart's secret marinade on it while we're filling bait buckets this morning. I'd never get the pink dye out, Honey. That stuff's permanent."

"It wouldn't make very good perfume, either," Honey concurred with a laugh. "But then, again, the stench might help drive Beau off, Trixie."

As the giggling pair headed downstairs, Trixie hushed Honey, explaining that she didn't want to wake Miss Night Owl. Only her pretty partner insisted the girls shake Hallie's shoulder on their way out the door.

"If she doesn't get up, it's her fault," Honey said. "But at least we're in the clear for trying to get her out of bed, Trixie."

And so it came to be that the two New Yorkers started for the communal kitchen, leaving Miss Sugar-Pops back at the cabin mumbling something about getting five more minutes of sleep.

Much to Trixie's despair, the morning was overly humid. Condensation dripped from the porch rails and the buildings' sidings, giving the appearance that it'd rained overnight. It hadn't. But the observant young lady expected Anglers' Landing could see showers by nightfall.

The bayou's waters were a deep red, reflecting the sky as the sun crept over the horizon. This was a sure sign of rain –as were the early-rising sailors up by the boathouse, scurrying to gather their foul weather gear. The gator hunters would likely need it before the day was through. And Trixie and Honey wondered about the progression of Tropical Depression Diana.

"I sure hope the boys come home with boat-loads of alligators," Trixie told Honey as they rounded the office. "I have a feeling their tagging days are numbered."

"I do, too," Honey admitted sadly, pushing her dampening locks behind her ears. "It makes me wonder if Houdini's going to escape another hunting season with his life, Trixie."

Plucking her clinging tee away from her back, Miss Belden returned, "For all we know, some unknown hunter's already snagged that giant beast, Honey. If so, let's hope it wasn't one of the Forets. If Papa had to turn over his crown as Lord of the Bayou to Marcel after all that's happened? Why it'd be the final blow. Mr. LeBlanc would never live it down. "

"Oh, you're certainly right, there," Honey shuddered. "Mr. LeBlanc would probably accuse the family of stealing Houdini off one of his lines, Trixie. He swears Augustin and Lucien are the ones who are up to no good."

"Yeah, well, I think maybe people ought to start listening to Papa," Miss Belden replied. "He said the Forets have stolen gators before, Honey. And like Dan was saying last night. Sometimes, the guilty party is pretty obvious."

Miss Wheeler reached out and stopped her friend. The girls were getting close to the kitchen, and she didn't want Aunt Liz to overhear what she was about to say. "I agree," she revealed. "And I think Dan was right about us overlooking Great Aunt Lizzy, too, Trixie. If we weren't going to town this afternoon, I'd suggest we go out to her place and do a little, well… snooping. It's hard to say what we might turn up."

Trixie grinned. Honey's idea was right up her alley. But Miss Belden was rather surprised that her friend had come up with it. "What?" she gasped. "Are you suggesting we wade through the swamp with all those poisonous snakes and bugs everywhere? Not to mention that creepy drumming I heard last night?"

Honey giggled. "If we're going to solve this mystery, I'm going to have to put on my big girl pants," she said. "Besides, there must be a road leading to Aunt Izzy's house, Trixie. I imagine we could take the bikes like we did to the boar site. She does have a car, remember?"

The curly-haired detective laughed, recalling the eccentric hermit's rusty Rambler. "Excellent reasoning, my dear, Watson," she declared. "And you've given me an idea. Tomorrow's Hallie's day off. So what do you say we get her to show us the way to Aunt Izzy's house? Hallie could introduce us; that way, we'd get a chance to talk to Ms. LeBlanc."

"Oh, now there's a great idea," Honey said. "I've never met a real witch before. You don't think Aunt Izzy lives in a house made of gingerbread, do you?"

Trixie chuckled. "If so, just don't go nibbling at it," she warned.

Then, as the girls started back on their way, Miss Belden had another brilliant notion. "If there's time, after visiting with Aunt Izzy, I'd like to run over to the Robert's Alligator Farm, too," she said. "With the storm coming and having to head home early, it may be our only chance to visit the park. The boys won't be able to go, but that doesn't mean we have to miss out on all the fun."

Honey hesitated. Zip lining across a pond full of hungry alligators wasn't exactly Miss Wheeler's idea of "fun". But while Trixie and Hallie toured the park, the pretty girl decided she could browse Gator Garden's gift shop. "I guess we did promise Regan we'd bring him back a tee shirt," she conceded as Aunt Liz came into view. "Maybe I'll pick up a tee shirt for Brian, too. Do you think he would like one, Trixie?"

Trixie smiled sadly, thinking her oldest sibling was a fool for dating Loyola Kevin. "I'm sure he would, Hon," she returned softly.

"Ooo, doggies! Those biscuits and gravy look some kind of good, 'Lizbeth," Papa LeBlanc said as he sat down at the head of the adult's table, joining the crew for breakfast. "Renee and I could smell the sausage sizzlin' from our place."

Aunt Liz laughed as she set the steaming plate of food before the salivating man. "Lucas LeBlanc, I do believe you have the biggest appetite on the bayou," she declared.

Beau, picking up on the conversation, let out a hoot. "It's not as big as Great Uncle Maurice's, Mrs. LeBlanc," he called, bringing a growl from his father.

"That's Sheriff Theriot to you," Bernie warned his son through his mouthful of food.

At the same time, Trixie nearly dropped her tray of drinks. "Great Uncle Maurice?!" her mind exploded. Was Sheriff Theriot Sure-Shot Shelly's brother?! If so, what an interesting development that was! Detective Belden wondered if the sheriff had dismissed the Foret boys as alligator thieves simply because they were family!

Only before Trixie could further ponder the possibility, Papa LeBlanc noticed Miss Flip-Flop was missing from the ranks. "Where's Hallie Bear?" he asked, counting heads. Trixie had been waiting for the alligator skin boot to drop.

As the crowd grew quiet, Uncle Zach said, "She had a late night, Pa. If she doesn't show soon, I'll go get her."

At that, Mr. LeBlanc Senior pushed back his chair and stormed off to cabin three.

Shortly thereafter, Trixie winced when she heard a roar so loud it set the silverware on the tables dancing. "Get your tuckus up off that couch and light a fire under it!" she heard Papa bellowing. "This ain't no vacation, girl. There are tags to fill. And what the darn gosh did you do to your hair?!"

As Honey broke down in giggles, she, Trixie, and Dan dashed to the kitchen for the rest of the people's breakfasts. When the three teenagers returned, a very unhappy Hallie was propped up against Beau, looking like something the cat had drug in.

Setting a plate of eggs in front of her cousin, the New York Miss Belden received a sleepy-eyed evil eye from the miserable girl. "I think you'll find they're fluffy," Trixie said drolly.

After everyone had been served, the curly-haired girl sat down at her own plate. Jim had saved the young lady her usual spot next to his, and a part of Trixie wished he hadn't. Not because she was still angry with Jim. She'd worked out most of her frustration on the lad's sock look-a-like the night before. No, it was because the seating arrangement placed Beau directly across from Trixie. So the young lady had no excuse not to put operation Pest Removal into motion -except that she had pretty much chickened out on her plan.

That is until the young Mr. Benoit said, "I was just telling Red here that you and he missed a really great time last night, Goldilocks. I had Sugar-Pops show Charlotte the pics she'd taken on her phone of Mr. Muscles and our local Lady-Gossip really wigged out. She wished you guys and gals could have come. To make up for it, Charlotte's going to bring doughnuts over to the boat launch this morning and introduce herself to Red. Isn't that swell, big fella?"

Jim choked his swig of orange juice, then gulped it down and wiped his mouth with his napkin. "Yeah, real swell," he returned.

Trixie stabbed her sausage links with her fork, pretending they were voodoo dolls. She didn't know who she was angrier with. Beau for trying to set Jim up with Lady-Gossip, her female cousin for going along with it, or Jim for thinking the idea was "real swell".

And that's when the New York Miss Belden snapped.

"I must admit I wish we'd gone to Charlotte's little get-together, Beau," she purred, doing her best to sound sincere. "Why, when Hallie came in and told me how much fun you'd had, I was simply green with envy." Trixie then did something she never thought she'd ever have the courage to do. She actually gave the Cajun boy's foot a playful nudge under the table. Then she winked at Beau when Jim wasn't looking.

As Mr. Benoit's eyes popped and his expression went blank, Miss Belden excused herself from the table to refill the adults' coffee cups.

"Gleeps, Honey, it was all I could do to keep from laughing," Trixie told her friend with a giggle as the girls finished cleaning up the breakfast mess. "When I kicked Beau's boot under the table, he looked like a deer caught in the headlamps." Dan had gone to get a jump start on the young people's morning housekeeping duties, and Aunt Liz had run home to take care of things there, giving the young ladies some time alone to talk.

"I wondered why Beau seemed to be avoiding you," Honey returned with a grin, hanging her damp dish towel over the oven handle. "I must say, that was a pretty sly move, Trixie. So you think Di's idea is working?"

"I sure do," Miss Belden returned confidently. "I have a feeling, by the end of the day, a certain Cajun Casanova will be giving this Goldilocks the big kiss-off. Why, I'm almost looking forward to getting dressed up and gushing over the gators he brings into the buyers this afternoon. Serving Beau his just deserts is pretty empowering, Honey."

Miss Wheeler groaned and pushed her friend out of the kitchen. "When we get back to the cabin, remind me to text Di and tell her she's created a monster. Honestly, Trixie, I'd be careful if I were you. You don't want your actions to backfire."

"Oh, Honey, don't be such a nervous Nellie," Miss Belden replied as the girls headed off to dispose of their voodoo dolls. "Mark my words; everything will work out just fine."

Only a short time later, Trixie's self-assuredness was about to go up in smoke – and quite literally at that. As the two Sleepyside voodoo priestesses piled their sock effigies in the fireplace and then lit them with a match, billows of grey smoke poured into the living room, setting off the smoke detectors. Trixie and Honey had neglected to open the damper.

As Honey raced to turn off the window air conditioner and open the windows, Trixie struggled to open the flue. And that's when Miss Belden felt the deer head above the fireplace's black ball eyes staring down at her from above. The awful thing was still uncovered from the night before. And as the flustered young lady glanced up, she was issued a dark warning.

"When you play with fire, you're apt to get burned," the horrible head said.

Walking back to the resort after feeding Fogerty his lunch, Trixie, Honey, and Dan noticed an ominous change in the weather. One minute, the air would be so still that the young people could have sworn time had stopped. Then, all of a sudden, a big gust of wind would nearly blow the teenagers over in its attempt to catch up. Then, just as quickly, things would be unmoving again.

When they'd been at Papa's, Aunt Renee had told the young people that Tropical Depression Diana had grown into a full-fledged tropical storm. Diana's winds were now topping sixty miles an hour, and she still had her destructive eye set on Saint Estelle.

As a result, Papa was insisting on going alligator hunting on Friday. And there was nothing Aunts Renee or Liz could say or do to change the stubborn man's mind. Mr. LeBlanc had yet to give up on tagging out. But he knew chances were looking mighty slim, so the family needed all able-bodied hands on deck.

Based on how things currently stood, Mr. Wheeler planned to send the jet to collect the New Yorkers first thing Sunday morning. Trixie's cousins' family would return to Idaho, with Papa in tow, on Monday. And the rest of the LeBlancs expected to disperse soon after, once they had everything boarded up.

The weather center was still predicting Diana to reach hurricane status before making landfall. And though the situation was potentially very dangerous, Trixie found it exhilarating, too. Her only fear was that she and Honey wouldn't have enough time to solve their case before going home.

Almost as frustrating, the two detectives had learned that Aunt Renee's email to Dr. Guidry about the mysterious animal tracks had been returned with an out-of-office response. The good professor was on extended holiday with no indication of when he'd be back.

Yes, the nasty blows had just kept coming. And as another gust of wind pushed Trixie's thoughts back to the present, she caught a whiff of a powerful odor. "Pee-whew, do you smell that?" she asked her friends, looking skyward for a sign of vultures. "If I'm not mistaken, there's something dead close by."

Honey had noticed the offensive odor, too. "I thought that smell was coming from the dumpsters," she replied.

But Dan shook his head. "The wind's not blowing from that direction, Honey," he returned. "If I'm not mistaken, whatever stinks has got to be down by the cabins. Five and six are closest to us. All in favor of checking it out, say 'I'.

Two "I"s later, the teenagers stood before cabin five, holding their noses and scratching their heads. Each time the wind would blow, the broken limb on the roof would shift, causing the torn metal to screech in protest. At the same time, the smell would grow more intense.

"We're definitely in the right spot," Trixie announced, surveying her surroundings. "You don't think a raccoon crawled under the porch and died, do you?"

The area where the cabin had been built was low-lying and still partially flooded. As Trixie waded through an inch of water to peer under the cottage's cinder-block-raised foundation, Honey and Dan joined her.

"Can you see anything?" Dan asked, noting the stench was getting stronger the closer the teens got to the house.

"Not without a flashlight," his frustrated friend returned. "I guess something could have just as easily crawled through the hole in the roof and couldn't find its way back out."

Honey agreed. And now that the teens were right on top of the pungent odor, the pretty girl noted that it seemed awfully familiar. "If I didn't know better, I'd think the LeBlancs were storing bait buckets inside the cottage," she said.

And Trixie's eyes nearly sprang from their sockets. Her observant friend was right! "Could it be...?"

Not bothering to voice what she was thinking, Miss Belden raced up the cabin steps. Cottages five and six were still boarded up after the last storm, but Trixie hoped she'd be able to pry away the plywood sheet covering the front window and get a glimpse inside.

Only, as it turned out, Miss Belden didn't have to go to such extremes. As she hurried past the front door, it emitted a creak and slowly swung inward. The LeBlancs had left the cottage unlocked!

But as Trixie started through the door, Dan, who'd been on the young lady's heels, pulled her back.

"Let me go instead," he said. "You wait out front with Honey. With this wind, the ceiling could cave in at any moment. I don't want either of you getting hurt."

Trixie huffed. She didn't like being told what to do. "It's just as dangerous for you," she pointed out.

Only then, Miss Belden noticed Dan pulling his knife from his pocket. Apparently, Mr. Mangan was concerned about more than just the roof coming down. "I promise I'll make it quick," he assured his alarmed friend. "I doubt anyone is hiding inside, Trix - but better safe than sorry."

Five minutes later, Dan burst out the door, making a beeline for the porch rail.

As the young man lost his lunch in what remained of the flower bed below, Trixie and Honey rushed to his side.

"Oh, Dan, are you alright?" Honey cried, rubbing the boy's back as he leaned over the railing again to heave. "What on earth did you find in there?"

"Gleeps, Honey, quit asking the guy questions and give him a little space," Trixie replied, pulling her friend to the side. "Can't you see Dan's in no condition to talk?"

As the glistened-eyed boy straightened and chuckled, he assured the young ladies he was fine. "You're not going to believe this," Mr. Mangan went on. "But someone's dumped a bunch of rotten chicken and beef in the tub in the bathroom. It stinks like holey heck in there."

Trixie shook her fist victoriously. "I knew it!" she said. "That's the meat stolen from the LeBlanc's freezer, Dan. I'm sure of it! "

"But who on earth would do such a thing? And why?" Honey gasped.

Dan raked back his sleek hair and shrugged. "Good question," he returned. "But I can tell you one thing, it wasn't Smokey the Bear," he added with a laugh. "We better go tell Aunt Liz so she can call the sheriff."

As Miss Wheeler and Mr. Mangan started off, Miss Belden hung back and then ducked into the cabin without her friends knowing. Trixie wanted to see the crime scene for herself. Hazardous or not, she wanted to look for clues. Something in the young lady's gut told her Sheriff Theriot wouldn't be conducting a very extensive investigation.

Only once inside, the dedicated detective wished she'd propped open the door. Dan was right. The smell was overpowering. But Trixie pushed through her nausea and headed straight for the bathroom.

There, Miss Belden was taken by surprise when she found less meat than she'd been expecting. True, there was still quite a bit. But it didn't account for all the chicken and beef stolen from Papa's "ice box" – and Trixie found it perplexing.

The second thing that caught the young investigator's eye was that the bathroom towels had been piled on the floor in what could almost be described as a nest. Examining the indentation in the center of the mound of linens, Trixie discovered a now familiar tuft of grey fur.

Leaving the hair for the sheriff to find, sure it was a match to her other samples, Miss Belden was heading out of the bathroom to explore the rest of the cottage when she caught sight of two stamped-out cigarette butts lying in the sink. And both of the smokes were ringed in pink.

Trixie was savoring the thought of rubbing the butts in Sheriff Theriot's face when Dan walked in. "I figured I'd find you in here," he said. "Pretty creepy, huh?"

"That's the understatement of the year," Trixie agreed. "I'd sure like to figure out what's going on around here, Dan."

Mr. Mangan nodded and gave the pile of towels on the floor a nudge with his boot. "You plan to tell Honey about these?" he asked.

"Of course she does," Miss Wheeler interrupted, coming through the door. "I am her partner, Dan."

Only once Honey had gotten a look at the bath linens, she secretly wished she had been kept in the dark.

"Dear me. That sounds like the Foret's work," Aunt Liz sighed, putting down her knitting. "Marcel's boys must have stolen the meat out of the freezer and left it in the tub in retaliation for Lucas shooting at them the other night." The young people had found Ms. LeBlanc in the office when they'd gone to tell her about their alarming discovery in cabin five.

"But why didn't the Forets just keep it and use it for bait?" Trixie asked, mindlessly spinning her finger in the bowl of alligator teeth on the counter. "Ms. Foret told us yesterday that something had gotten into their bait buckets. She was upset because the meat would be expensive to replace."

"Oh, I don't know," Aunt Liz returned, seemly unconcerned. "That's just the way the silly feud goes. First, one side does something ludicrous, and then the other. The fun and games are unending, Trixie."

Trixie and Honey exchanged glances. Miss Wheeler had overheard Uncle Zach mention something about "fun and games", too. And the girls wondered why Mrs. LeBlanc wasn't reaching for the telephone. In their eyes, fun and games or not, a crime had been committed.

"Aren't you going to call Sheriff Theriot?" Trixie pressed Aunt Liz.

Mrs. LeBlanc smiled and got up for a cup of coffee. Pouring a steaming mug from the pot Honey had purchased at Laron's Home Fix-Its, Aunt Liz casually commented on what a delight the new maker was. After taking a sip of the strong black brew, the motherly woman went on to say it might be best if they didn't report the "little impropriety" to Sheriff Theriot. "We'd only be making a mountain out of a molehill," she told the stunned teenagers. "And I really see no sense in riling up Lucas and the boys with Tropical Storm Diana on her way. It would only cause tit for tat, I'm ashamed to say. So I think it best to we keep the matter our little secret. Agreed?"

After a moment of silence, the teenagers somewhat hesitantly promised Mrs. LeBlanc they wouldn't say anything to anyone about finding the spoiled meat. Aunt Liz was attempting to nip the feud between the Forets and the LeBlancs in the bud – or so it seemed. And the young people certainly didn't want to stir the pot.

Only the teenagers also knew they couldn't just leave the beef and poultry in cabin five to decay. Trixie was surprised that Bernie, in cabin four, hadn't already complained about the stench. Someone needed to clean up the mess. And the three Bob-Whites stepped up to the task.

"If you'd like, Aunt Liz, I can make up a couple bait buckets using the meat from the bathtub?" Dan said, volunteering. "The stuff's pretty rotten, but I imagine the gators won't mind. Besides, If Papa's going hunting tomorrow, we'll need more bait, anyway."

"Trixie and I will be glad to scour the bathroom, too," Honey added, bringing a resigned nod from her curly-haired friend. It would be a dirty job, but at least Miss Belden wasn't wearing her sundress.

Aunt Liz found herself totally speechless. "Oh my," she finally said, packing up her knitting, "I couldn't ask you children to do that? I'll tidy up while you're in town. I've got plenty of time on my hands with supper already simmering." Rather than pre-make sandwiches and potato salad for dinner, Ms. LeBlanc had suggested the young people start a hearty pot of chicken gumbo. When the teenagers returned from the buyer, all they'd have to do was boil rice to serve with it.

Only the three Bob-Whites didn't want Aunt Liz lifting a finger. They insisted they be the ones to clean up the stinky mess in cabin five. After all, they'd come to Louisiana to help the LeBlancs during their time of need.

Still, Trixie couldn't help but wonder if she and her friends might be making a huge mistake. A good detective didn't cover up evidence in Miss Belden's book. Or destroy the crime scene. No, something about the whole situation didn't sit right with the unsettled girl.