kitchen, it was quickly forgotten. But then I heard, clear as day, one more outburst in Barney’s voice.
“Aunt Julia—what’s going on?”
I lost my breath for a moment. Wait a minute —Aunt Julia?
“And I’m here to tell you,” Frankie Ludlow was saying, but he had to wait for the applause to die down. “I’m here to tell you . . .”
I got unsteadily to my feet as Frankie finally got the first line of his speech out.
“I’m here to tell you why electing Carrie Kim to the town council would be a huge mistake for Boylestown!”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The Wrong Man
THE HOOTING AND APPLAUSE DIED down immediately. A gasp went through the crowd, which immediately grew silent, wanting to hear exactly what Frankie Ludlow had to say.
“Carrie Kim’s sports complex would destroy the local environment! Do you know how many unique species live in Willow Woods, in the trees she’s planning to tear down to build a new football field? They’ll be gone forever, people, they’re not going to be able to live in a few scraggly trees planted on the current field!”
I knew I should run back to the kitchen and seewhat was going on, but I felt like my feet were stuck in concrete. Frankie’s face shone with passion, and I could tell the audience believed he truly meant every word he was saying. But who had arranged for him to do this? Julia had chosen all the speakers. Julia . . .
I turned around and spotted her then, slipping out of the kitchen with a look of pure pride and delight on her face. She seemed to catch Frankie’s eye and nodded to him, making a keep going gesture. Frankie turned back to the mic, adding details about what the turfing process would do to local groundwater and wildlife.
I glanced at Bess and George. Their faces were mirrors of my own shock. Julia, I mouthed to them.
“So as I’m sure you can understand by now,” Frankie went on, pounding the podium with his fist for emphasis, “while I support the high school sports program, I don’t think that athletics are more important than taking care of the planet. . . .”
The police started escorting Barney out of the kitchen at that point. He was handcuffed, and while it was clear they were trying to be discreet, several eyesin the audience turned to watch as Barney was dragged out, still protesting.
“This wasn’t me! I swear! I was just . . .”
Over the din of Frankie’s speech, the confused chatter in the ballroom, and Barney’s anguished shouts, I could suddenly make out another sound. Banging. Coming from the hallway where Julia had told me Carrie was “working on her speech” in the restroom.
“Let me out!” Carrie’s voice was barely distinguishable in the loud ballroom. “Frankie isn’t telling the truth! JULIA! Why did you lock the door?”
That finally gave me the motivation to pull my feet from where they felt welded to the floor. I shot a meaningful glance at Bess and George as I went, and they sprang up from their seats and followed me as I ran over past the kitchen, down the hallway, and to the restroom where Carrie was imprisoned.
“Carrie, are you all right?” called George.
“I’m fine, but I’m stuck in here!” Carrie yelled back. “Julia must have locked me in from the outside! And I could hear the speech Frankie’s making. . . .”
Bess was already digging in her purse before Carrie could finish her sentence. Within seconds, she handed me her precious credit card. “You know the rules,” she said, giving me a warning look. “No damage to the magnetic strip. I’ve already asked for two replacement cards.”
I nodded. “You know I’m a pro, Bess.”
The card slid easily between the frame and the edge of the door, and with a few flicks of the wrist, I’d soon wedged it around the bar that held the door shut and forced it back, picking the lock. I turned the knob and pulled the door open, revealing a red-faced Carrie—still holding the scribbled-on printout of her speech.
Before
“Aunt Julia—what’s going on?”
I lost my breath for a moment. Wait a minute —Aunt Julia?
“And I’m here to tell you,” Frankie Ludlow was saying, but he had to wait for the applause to die down. “I’m here to tell you . . .”
I got unsteadily to my feet as Frankie finally got the first line of his speech out.
“I’m here to tell you why electing Carrie Kim to the town council would be a huge mistake for Boylestown!”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The Wrong Man
THE HOOTING AND APPLAUSE DIED down immediately. A gasp went through the crowd, which immediately grew silent, wanting to hear exactly what Frankie Ludlow had to say.
“Carrie Kim’s sports complex would destroy the local environment! Do you know how many unique species live in Willow Woods, in the trees she’s planning to tear down to build a new football field? They’ll be gone forever, people, they’re not going to be able to live in a few scraggly trees planted on the current field!”
I knew I should run back to the kitchen and seewhat was going on, but I felt like my feet were stuck in concrete. Frankie’s face shone with passion, and I could tell the audience believed he truly meant every word he was saying. But who had arranged for him to do this? Julia had chosen all the speakers. Julia . . .
I turned around and spotted her then, slipping out of the kitchen with a look of pure pride and delight on her face. She seemed to catch Frankie’s eye and nodded to him, making a keep going gesture. Frankie turned back to the mic, adding details about what the turfing process would do to local groundwater and wildlife.
I glanced at Bess and George. Their faces were mirrors of my own shock. Julia, I mouthed to them.
“So as I’m sure you can understand by now,” Frankie went on, pounding the podium with his fist for emphasis, “while I support the high school sports program, I don’t think that athletics are more important than taking care of the planet. . . .”
The police started escorting Barney out of the kitchen at that point. He was handcuffed, and while it was clear they were trying to be discreet, several eyesin the audience turned to watch as Barney was dragged out, still protesting.
“This wasn’t me! I swear! I was just . . .”
Over the din of Frankie’s speech, the confused chatter in the ballroom, and Barney’s anguished shouts, I could suddenly make out another sound. Banging. Coming from the hallway where Julia had told me Carrie was “working on her speech” in the restroom.
“Let me out!” Carrie’s voice was barely distinguishable in the loud ballroom. “Frankie isn’t telling the truth! JULIA! Why did you lock the door?”
That finally gave me the motivation to pull my feet from where they felt welded to the floor. I shot a meaningful glance at Bess and George as I went, and they sprang up from their seats and followed me as I ran over past the kitchen, down the hallway, and to the restroom where Carrie was imprisoned.
“Carrie, are you all right?” called George.
“I’m fine, but I’m stuck in here!” Carrie yelled back. “Julia must have locked me in from the outside! And I could hear the speech Frankie’s making. . . .”
Bess was already digging in her purse before Carrie could finish her sentence. Within seconds, she handed me her precious credit card. “You know the rules,” she said, giving me a warning look. “No damage to the magnetic strip. I’ve already asked for two replacement cards.”
I nodded. “You know I’m a pro, Bess.”
The card slid easily between the frame and the edge of the door, and with a few flicks of the wrist, I’d soon wedged it around the bar that held the door shut and forced it back, picking the lock. I turned the knob and pulled the door open, revealing a red-faced Carrie—still holding the scribbled-on printout of her speech.
Before
Similar Books
