revs the engine. He pulls out of the driveway as I clip Susu's leash on her collar. Georgina watches as Otto closes the garage and zooms down the street without a honk, wave, or nod.
"Think she'll explode?" Bree mutters.
"It's Georgina," I respond. "If anything, she would melt ."
Georgina turns sharply, and Bree and I take a step back to avoid being whipped in the face by her blonde curls. She speed walks to the driver's side of her silver Mercedes. Bree and I look at each other. I suppose if she's mad enough to leave us stranded here, Bree and I will just go back inside and surf through Otto's cable. After we snoop some more.
"Let's go," Georgina shouts impatiently. She starts her car, blasting the air conditioner while she waits.
"But I have to take Susu—"
"Bring her along," Georgina replies. "We're losing time. Hurry up."
I jump in the back seat with Susu next to me before Bree has the chance.
"I thought we were going to rock, paper, scissors for the back seat," Bree whines.
"First come, first served," I answer. Bree reluctantly sits next to Georgina. As soon as Bree shuts her door, Georgina zooms toward the freeway like a race car driver. I grab onto my seat belt, studying Georgina's expression in the rearview mirror. Her jaw is clenched, and her hands are clutching the steering wheel so tight that I can see the veins in her hands. She passes the turn leading back toward campus.
"What are you doing?" Bree asks, glancing over her shoulder.
"We would've caught up to him by now if you two weren't bickering like an old, married couple about who sits where." She yanks the steering wheel, suddenly changing lanes. Chef Otto's bright red Ferrari comes into view. It's kind of hard to miss.
"Wait a second," I respond. "You're not thinking of following him all the way to Atlanta, are you?"
"Do you have a better idea?" She glares at Otto's car and keeps pace with him as he weaves through traffic. It's a good plan. I just wish I didn't have to sit in a car with Georgina through most of it.
"Yeah," Bree comments. "We should all go home, enjoy our day off, and revisit this little mission on Monday."
"No, Bree, she's right." It pains me to admit it, but I could be one up on Detective Reid by the time this is over. "Chef Otto is hiding something, and the sooner we figure out what, the closer we are to finding the real killer."
"And if he's going to meet with the boss of a rival mob?" Bree mutters over her shoulder.
"Are you insinuating that Chef Otto is the murderer?" Georgina's eyes go wide at the thought of it. She shakes her head—a blonde curl falling across her face. "That's absurd."
"It could happen," Bree insists. "I mean, how well do we really know him?"
"Oh, I know him." Georgina nods, looking straight forward at her cherry red target. "I know him well, and he would never do such a thing."
"Uh, you know him from television," I point out. "It's not the same."
"We have similar interests and compatible horoscopes," she insists. "The stars were aligned in our favor when he came into town. And he told Sugar Babe Magazine that he's looking to settle down with a simple home-style woman with a good head on her shoulders. It was meant to be."
"Sounds like he was referring to his Italian mama." I chuckle, petting Susu.
"And what makes you qualified to hand out relationship advice?" Georgina directs her question toward the backseat.
"Hey," I argue, "I may not know what works, but I definitely know what doesn't work. Pretending to like the same things as someone doesn't work."
"I'm not pretending at all," Georgina insists. "Chef Otto and I are the perfect match, and one day he'll see it. I think you're just jealous, Poppy."
"Jealous?" I make one last attempt at being a good kitchenmate. "Georgina, just because I dog sit for him doesn't mean I want him in my bed."
" Poppy ," Bree gasps. She's too proper to discuss sensual subjects so casually.
"How can you not see him for what he really is?" I go on.
"A
"Think she'll explode?" Bree mutters.
"It's Georgina," I respond. "If anything, she would melt ."
Georgina turns sharply, and Bree and I take a step back to avoid being whipped in the face by her blonde curls. She speed walks to the driver's side of her silver Mercedes. Bree and I look at each other. I suppose if she's mad enough to leave us stranded here, Bree and I will just go back inside and surf through Otto's cable. After we snoop some more.
"Let's go," Georgina shouts impatiently. She starts her car, blasting the air conditioner while she waits.
"But I have to take Susu—"
"Bring her along," Georgina replies. "We're losing time. Hurry up."
I jump in the back seat with Susu next to me before Bree has the chance.
"I thought we were going to rock, paper, scissors for the back seat," Bree whines.
"First come, first served," I answer. Bree reluctantly sits next to Georgina. As soon as Bree shuts her door, Georgina zooms toward the freeway like a race car driver. I grab onto my seat belt, studying Georgina's expression in the rearview mirror. Her jaw is clenched, and her hands are clutching the steering wheel so tight that I can see the veins in her hands. She passes the turn leading back toward campus.
"What are you doing?" Bree asks, glancing over her shoulder.
"We would've caught up to him by now if you two weren't bickering like an old, married couple about who sits where." She yanks the steering wheel, suddenly changing lanes. Chef Otto's bright red Ferrari comes into view. It's kind of hard to miss.
"Wait a second," I respond. "You're not thinking of following him all the way to Atlanta, are you?"
"Do you have a better idea?" She glares at Otto's car and keeps pace with him as he weaves through traffic. It's a good plan. I just wish I didn't have to sit in a car with Georgina through most of it.
"Yeah," Bree comments. "We should all go home, enjoy our day off, and revisit this little mission on Monday."
"No, Bree, she's right." It pains me to admit it, but I could be one up on Detective Reid by the time this is over. "Chef Otto is hiding something, and the sooner we figure out what, the closer we are to finding the real killer."
"And if he's going to meet with the boss of a rival mob?" Bree mutters over her shoulder.
"Are you insinuating that Chef Otto is the murderer?" Georgina's eyes go wide at the thought of it. She shakes her head—a blonde curl falling across her face. "That's absurd."
"It could happen," Bree insists. "I mean, how well do we really know him?"
"Oh, I know him." Georgina nods, looking straight forward at her cherry red target. "I know him well, and he would never do such a thing."
"Uh, you know him from television," I point out. "It's not the same."
"We have similar interests and compatible horoscopes," she insists. "The stars were aligned in our favor when he came into town. And he told Sugar Babe Magazine that he's looking to settle down with a simple home-style woman with a good head on her shoulders. It was meant to be."
"Sounds like he was referring to his Italian mama." I chuckle, petting Susu.
"And what makes you qualified to hand out relationship advice?" Georgina directs her question toward the backseat.
"Hey," I argue, "I may not know what works, but I definitely know what doesn't work. Pretending to like the same things as someone doesn't work."
"I'm not pretending at all," Georgina insists. "Chef Otto and I are the perfect match, and one day he'll see it. I think you're just jealous, Poppy."
"Jealous?" I make one last attempt at being a good kitchenmate. "Georgina, just because I dog sit for him doesn't mean I want him in my bed."
" Poppy ," Bree gasps. She's too proper to discuss sensual subjects so casually.
"How can you not see him for what he really is?" I go on.
"A
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