the truck after a few more efforts to get out that only dug us in deeper. We ran along the road, racing for my house with Fred in the lead. At this point, my only choice was to start making phone calls and hope somebody else made it to Chet Hanson’s house in time to protect Cora Mae.
That is, if she really was in danger.
Instinct told me she was.
I kept punching in Cora Mae, shs number as I rushed along. She picked up on try number nine. “You need to go home,” I shouted.
“I don’t have a car. And you sure are bossy.”
“I can’t explain now, but it’s important.”
Cora Mae sighed heavily. “Fine. Oh, look, a car is pulling in now. I’ll try to hitch a ride. Bye.”
And my dopey friend hung up.
And she ignored, or didn’t get, the next calls I made to her.
I have to admit, I’m not in the greatest shape for a marathon. Even a short one like this. But I kept moving, fueled by sheer adrenalin and panic. The first good news all day was that Blaze’s sheriff’s truck was in my driveway.
I ran in the door and doubled over in front of Blaze and Grandma, who were sitting at the kitchen table. “Help,” I croaked.
Blaze jumped up and looked out the window. “Where’s your truck?”
“Ditch,” I gasped. “No time…”
“She’s gonna kill some innocent person out on the highway,” Grandma said to Blaze. “If you don’t get her off the road.”
“I ought to impound the truck,” Blaze said, agreeing with the other side as usual. “Where is it?”
“Cora Mae’s in trouble,” I managed a whole sentence, but it wasn’t easy.
“Tramp,” Grandma said. “Imagine having a baby at that age!”
And that’s when I realized I’d get no help from the home front.
*
Maybe it was the lack of oxygen flowing to my brain. Or maybe I’d just had enough b.s. from my family and didn’t care anymore. Or maybe it was the only way I could think of to save my best friend.
At any rate, I ran back outside. What choice did I have? Blaze and Grandma were prejudiced against me and would never listen to reason until it was too late.
Blaze always leaves his keys dangling in the ignition when he comes over, and this time was no exception. So I commandeered his police vehicle. As I squealed out of the driveway, Fred came running from the back of the house, but I didn’t slow and wait for him.
I’d put enough friends in danger in spite of my promise not to do that anymore. If I could keep my four-legged buddy safe from harm, at least I wouldn’t be batting zero. I’d almost killed Kitty sending her on a heart-stopping mission, not to mention almost getting her killed during our last business gig. It’s possible that I’d already killed Cora Mae. Things couldn’t be any worse.
I hated to stop for anything, but this was too important. I pulled up next to my truck in the ditch, careful not to repeat my last mistake by getting too close, jumped out, ran over, and grabbed my bean bag gun from under the seat.
Then I opened the stolen vehicle up wide.
*
I barreled into Chet’s driveway. Diane’s car was there. With the driver’s door still open like she’d been in a big rush.
I didn’t see any blood trails, which is always a good thing.
I ran through the house calling Cora Mae’s name. She wasn’t there.
They had to be in the woods. Was Cora Mae dead? Was Diane burying her body right this minute?
First, I had to disable Diane’s car in case she came back before I found her. She couldn’t get away. I really didn’t like what had to come next. I got back in Blaze’s vehicle, backed it up, put it in drive, and floored it, ramming right into Diane’s car and pinning it against a tree.
Regarding car damage, I have to admit I’ve done my share. Like the time my first truck hit black ice and spun out. Totaled. Or the time I drove off a bridge with one of Walter’s old beaters. Totaled too.
I was almost positive that Blaze’s was salvageable. I pocketed the keys, grabbed
That is, if she really was in danger.
Instinct told me she was.
I kept punching in Cora Mae, shs number as I rushed along. She picked up on try number nine. “You need to go home,” I shouted.
“I don’t have a car. And you sure are bossy.”
“I can’t explain now, but it’s important.”
Cora Mae sighed heavily. “Fine. Oh, look, a car is pulling in now. I’ll try to hitch a ride. Bye.”
And my dopey friend hung up.
And she ignored, or didn’t get, the next calls I made to her.
I have to admit, I’m not in the greatest shape for a marathon. Even a short one like this. But I kept moving, fueled by sheer adrenalin and panic. The first good news all day was that Blaze’s sheriff’s truck was in my driveway.
I ran in the door and doubled over in front of Blaze and Grandma, who were sitting at the kitchen table. “Help,” I croaked.
Blaze jumped up and looked out the window. “Where’s your truck?”
“Ditch,” I gasped. “No time…”
“She’s gonna kill some innocent person out on the highway,” Grandma said to Blaze. “If you don’t get her off the road.”
“I ought to impound the truck,” Blaze said, agreeing with the other side as usual. “Where is it?”
“Cora Mae’s in trouble,” I managed a whole sentence, but it wasn’t easy.
“Tramp,” Grandma said. “Imagine having a baby at that age!”
And that’s when I realized I’d get no help from the home front.
*
Maybe it was the lack of oxygen flowing to my brain. Or maybe I’d just had enough b.s. from my family and didn’t care anymore. Or maybe it was the only way I could think of to save my best friend.
At any rate, I ran back outside. What choice did I have? Blaze and Grandma were prejudiced against me and would never listen to reason until it was too late.
Blaze always leaves his keys dangling in the ignition when he comes over, and this time was no exception. So I commandeered his police vehicle. As I squealed out of the driveway, Fred came running from the back of the house, but I didn’t slow and wait for him.
I’d put enough friends in danger in spite of my promise not to do that anymore. If I could keep my four-legged buddy safe from harm, at least I wouldn’t be batting zero. I’d almost killed Kitty sending her on a heart-stopping mission, not to mention almost getting her killed during our last business gig. It’s possible that I’d already killed Cora Mae. Things couldn’t be any worse.
I hated to stop for anything, but this was too important. I pulled up next to my truck in the ditch, careful not to repeat my last mistake by getting too close, jumped out, ran over, and grabbed my bean bag gun from under the seat.
Then I opened the stolen vehicle up wide.
*
I barreled into Chet’s driveway. Diane’s car was there. With the driver’s door still open like she’d been in a big rush.
I didn’t see any blood trails, which is always a good thing.
I ran through the house calling Cora Mae’s name. She wasn’t there.
They had to be in the woods. Was Cora Mae dead? Was Diane burying her body right this minute?
First, I had to disable Diane’s car in case she came back before I found her. She couldn’t get away. I really didn’t like what had to come next. I got back in Blaze’s vehicle, backed it up, put it in drive, and floored it, ramming right into Diane’s car and pinning it against a tree.
Regarding car damage, I have to admit I’ve done my share. Like the time my first truck hit black ice and spun out. Totaled. Or the time I drove off a bridge with one of Walter’s old beaters. Totaled too.
I was almost positive that Blaze’s was salvageable. I pocketed the keys, grabbed
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