Why not, I asked myself? It wasn’t a crime to enjoy the attention of a handsome man. I’d spurned a few opportunities since Robert died. Men looked past the overalls and ponytail to the pretty woman who stared back at me from the mirror each morning. I squared my shoulders. If Duane wanted to spend time with me, he could help me find the River Valley’s thief. That should be safe enough.
Duane filled his hand with bubbles and blew them into my face. I sputtered and grabbed a towel from the counter to wipe my face. Before he could run, I’d rolled the towel and aimed for his leg. The towel snapped. The look on his face warned me I’d better flee. I squealed and darted out the back door and around to the front of the house.
My feet slid as I came to an abrupt halt. With a sinking heart, I shuffled to the driveway.
“Mom?” I called through the open front door. “Where’s your car?”
Chapter Fourteen
Mom burst through the doorway and let the screen slam shut behind her. “I parked it in the driveway like always.” She planted hands on her hips then spun and marched into the house. She returned within seconds. “My keys aren’t in my purse.” Mom patted her pockets.
“Y’all need to see what’s on the news,” Leroy yelled from the front room. “You ain’t going to like it.”
The wooden planks of the porch thudded beneath us as we thundered inside and squeezed in front of the television. Mom’s great white boat stuck out of the front window of Wanda’s Cafe like a stranded whale.
My chin must have dropped to my knees. My darling daughter sat with her head in her hands on the front sidewalk. Across the bottom of the screen, scrolled the words “Local Teen Runs Car Through Diner Window”. Well, duh, I could see that for myself. I clenched my jaw.
Lindsey didn’t look hurt, but wait until I got finished with her. “How did she get there? I haven’t taught her to drive.” Billy Butler strolled through the door of the diner, a cup in one hand and a bag of chips in the other. Question answered. Billy drove the car. Bruce’s patrol car rolled into the lot, lights flashing, and stopped beside a squad car already parked there. Just great!
Duane chuckled then choked the laugh off when I tossed him a look. Leroy jangled his keys. “Hop in the truck.”
“I’d rather walk. I need to calm down before I claim my child.” My limbs trembled. I squelched the urge to rant and rave. To scream and wave my arms around. To cry. I definitely did not want to lose it in front of Duane and Leroy. I whirled and marched out the door and down the street. The walk would take fifteen minutes. Plenty of time for my temper to cool.
A glance over my shoulder showed Mom, Duane, and Leroy following. At least two of them knew enough not to bother me when I got into a “state”. Leroy had an arm around Mom’s shoulders. Duane gave me a crooked smile. I ground my teeth and redirected my attention forward.
What was Lindsey thinking? I’d like to wring her neck. It might be worth going to jail for.
I must be losing my mind! What had become of my little girl? Hardly any trouble until recently. She’d been accused of stealing. Now this. Taking my mother’s car. Wrecking it. Running around with a boy I knew nothing about. Instead of calming down, I grew more agitated the closer I got to the diner.
I took deep breaths and counted. One. . .two. . .three. . .It didn’t help. Instead, I hyperventilated. The beginning of a headache throbbed behind my eyes. I prayed for peace. My mind refused to focus on anything other than the fact my daughter stole my mother’s car. I marched into the diner’s parking lot, rounded the giant bovine, and lost all the resolve I’d tried to build.
“Mom!” Lindsey bolted to her feet. Billy’s arm slid from her shoulders.
“Are you all right?” I’d try the nice mother touch first. She nodded. “What were you thinking?” My arms flew over my head to accentuate my words. It probably looked like sign language gone mad. “You are definitely trying to kill me or drive me insane!” I paced in front of her. “You ought to just get a knife. It’d be faster. Good Lord, take me now. Take me home.”
“Mom, please.” Lindsey grabbed my arm. “You’re embarrassing me.”
I jerked free. “You mean bigger than the embarrassment of you running the car through the window?” The cameraman from the local station swerved the camera in my direction.
“Don’t you dare put me on the news!” I jabbed a finger in his direction then resumed my frantic back and forth walk. “Like I don’t have enough to deal with. Ugh!”
Duane, Leroy, and Bruce stood side-by-side, arms crossed, and huge grins splitting their faces. The Three Stooges. I wanted to punch them but then I’d probably go to jail for assault. That would be icing on the cake. Mom patted her hair in place and waved to the camera before moving to check on her car.
Remorse the size of a grain of rice kicked in. I knew how much she loved her baby. “Is the car okay?”
“Just a scrape. No dents, thank the Lord. They don’t make cars like this anymore.” Mom ran her hand down the side. “The store is another thing.”
I whirled back to Lindsey. “You could have killed somebody! Who taught you how to drive?”
Lindsey shook her head. “Billy was driving. You have to listen—”
“I don’t want to hear another word, unless it’s to Wanda about how you’re going to pay to repair this window.” My head pounded. “Somebody get me a diet coke. No, some M&Ms. Both. I need both.”
Duane dug his wallet from his pocket and meandered through the open door. He winked at Lindsey as he passed. I rolled my eyes. Good grief. The man was incorrigible. I suddenly remembered all the trouble he’d gotten into through high school. Sneaking out, borrowing his parents’ car, ditching school. The apple didn’t fall far from the Steele family tree it seemed.
Mom stepped up to me and put her hands on my shoulders. “Calm down. It will be okay.”
“It won’t be okay. She. . .” I pointed at Lindsey. “Is. Not. Too. Bright. All the work I’ve put into raising her. . .well, I don’t know what else to say.” My shoulders slumped. Duane thrust a coke and candy into my hands then stepped back as if afraid I’d unleash my fury on him.
“Take care of Lindsey.” Mom patted my arm. “My car is fine, except for a scrape of green paint. Not sure where that came from. The window can be fixed. Damage you may cause with your words might not be erased.”
I glanced at my daughter. Tears ran down her face. Billy tried comforting her by smoothing her hair away from her face. He jerked back when I glared at him. I marched to them, put my fists on my hips, realized I probably looked like my mother, removed them and crossed my arms. “I’m calm now. Talk to me. Why did you take your grandmother’s keys? Are you sure you’re okay?”
“You aren’t calm.” She sniffled and wiped her face on her sleeve. “And I’m fine.”
“I am calm.” Or at least trying to be. I took a deep breath and willed my voice to lower.
“We wanted to go for a ride, and we didn’t want to take your car. It would’ve left us stranded somewhere.”
“You shouldn’t have taken anyone’s car.” My eyelids were probably fluttering faster than a hummingbird’s wings.
“Okay!” She crossed her arms in a direct imitation of me. “Geez, lighten up. You don’t even know what happened.”
“I’m trying to find out.” How would I survive the teenage years?
“Billy was driving. I did back out of the driveway though. I did pretty good.” Her features brightened a bit. “Then we drove around town for a while. Grandma’s radio doesn’t work very well, by the way. On our way back, we noticed a car following us. Billy thought it might be one of his friends. . .” Lindsey wrapped her arms around her stomach and bent forward.
My heart skipped a beat. I dreaded the rest of her story. Afraid of the direction it headed.
“—so we slowed down.” Her eyes widened, and she shook her head. “We weren’t speeding though. Billy’s a good driver. He even has a license.”
I waved Bruce over so he could h
ear the rest of her story.
Lindsey frowned when he joined us, most likely remembering his earlier treatment of her. “Anyway, the other car sped up. They got right on our bumper. Billy said the lights blinded him.” Her eyes shone with tears. “Then he freaked out a little when they bumped us. He said some words I won’t repeat. But he was stressed, so don’t hold his language against him. The wheel spun in his hands, and we ended up here.”
The dinner I’d eaten churned in my stomach. Why would someone run two teenagers off the road? Or had they meant to target my mother? “You could have been killed.” My voice shook.
Bruce whipped a notepad from his pocket. “Was the driver a man or a woman?”
Lindsey shrugged. “I don’t know. The person wore a President Clinton mask.”
Chapter Fifteen
“Let me make sure I have this right.” Bruce tapped his pen against the rim of his hat. His mouth twisted as he chewed the inside of his cheek. “You and your boyfriend stole your grandmother’s car then someone with a mask, like a former president’s face, ran you off the road, and you crashed into the diner.”
Lindsey frowned and nodded.
I whipped toward him. “You don’t believe her?” Stealing was a harsh word. Never mind that I’d thought the same thing a few minutes ago. I knew my mother would never press charges against her granddaughter.
Bruce shrugged. “Lindsey’s been in a lot of trouble lately. People are accusing her of being responsible for a lot of things.” He peered over the dark sunglasses he wore. Sunglasses at night? Geez. “She’s been seen wandering the streets after dark. Someone took off with Gloria Simpson’s litter of registered Chihuahuas.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“About what? That she’s been seen wandering the streets or Gloria’s puppies missing?”
I glared at him. “Sounds to me like you’re accusing my daughter. What would she do with a litter of puppies?”
“I’m not accusing, yet. I’m just saying, well, people talk. A whole litter of pups are missing. They’re worth a couple hundred dollars a piece. Times four that’s—“
“I can do the math.” I crossed my arms and glared. The man was completely incompetent. Now, more than ever, I’d have to actively pursue this case and clear my daughter’s name. “Can we go home now?”
He snorted. “If you can get the car out of the window.”
Mom had already climbed behind the wheel. The roar of the engine rose above the chatter of spectators. She honked the horn, stepped on the gas, and hurled backwards like a racehorse headed the wrong way. She spun the wheel and the car slid into a spin. Her grin rivaled the rising moon’s. “That was fun.”
“Your entire family is a menace.” Bruce slapped his notebook closed, shoved it into his pocket, and spun on his heel. “Don’t leave town.”
Duane stood next to the kids. Once Bruce marched away from me, Duane clapped Billy on the shoulder then made his way to my side. “Everything okay?”
“He doesn’t believe Lindsey is telling the truth about being run off the road.”
“Hmmph.”
“What does that mean?” I crossed my arms. “I’m going to have to go pro-active and find Sharon’s necklace.” I proceeded to rattle off the facts and thoughts that circulated through my brain the last few days.
Duane frowned. “I don’t think you should get involved. If you’re right, things are escalating. I’ll talk to Bruce if you want, and ask him to lay off Lindsey.”
“Why do men always say that? Things are too dangerous, you’re a girl, blah blah blah.” I glared at him. “Why don’t you help me? Lindsey is your niece after all.”
“Okay, but football practice starts tomorrow.” He slung an arm around my shoulder. “Do you want to walk back to your house or ride with your mother?”
Exhaustion weighted my shoulders beneath Duane’s arm. Had it really only been Wednesday since Sharon accused Lindsey of taking her necklace? I sighed. “I’m going to ride. It’s late, and I’ve got to work tomorrow.”
Duane gave me a warm arm squeeze. “Call if you need me. Otherwise, I’ll stop by after practice and go snooping with you.”
I nodded and waved Lindsey over. We climbed into Mom’s car. Me in the front, and Lindsey sprawled in back. “You okay?” I glanced over my shoulder.
“I was so scared.” Lindsey burst into tears.
“Oh, sweetie.” I climbed over the back seat. My foot tangled in the shoulder strap of the seat belt and I fell, clumsily beside my daughter. The air left my lungs with a whoosh, and I lay with my head on the floor and my rear in the air until I caught my breath. With a bit of skillful maneuvering, I recovered and wrapped her in my arms.
Lindsey giggled. “You are such a dork.”
“Hey, I work really hard at it. Practice makes perfect.” Her hair smelled of strawberry shampoo. “I’ll do anything to put a smile on your face.”
She sniffed. “Billy tried to act brave, but I could tell he was scared spitless. He really is a good driver, Mom. No one could have stayed on the road unless they wanted to get hit.”
“Yeah, about that. Taking the car was wrong.”
“We’ll discuss this when we get home.” Mom threw the car into drive and punched the gas. She yoo-hooed out the window to Leroy and sped from the parking lot.
“Great,” Lindsey muttered. She laid her head on my shoulder.
I straightened when the car turned right. “Where are we going?”
“To look for a green car that might be missing some paint.” She pulled into the lot of the Super Mart and cruised at the speed of a turtle. All three of us squinted through the evening.
“Don’t you think they’ll most likely have gone home and hid the car in a garage?” I rolled down my window for a better view. Mom slammed on the brakes and I hit the seat in front of me with enough force to bite my tongue. That’s what I got for not wearing my seatbelt.
“Is that the car, Lindsey?” Mom thrust her pride and joy in park and shoved open her door. We stopped behind a forest green Toyota.
“Maybe.”
Mom marched around the vehicle, searching for scrapes and dents. “It’s clean.”
“What are you doing?” Mark Jackson glared at us, arms folded, lab coat almost glowing beneath the street lights. “You’re blocking me in.”
“Just mistook this car for someone else’s.” Mom flashed him a grin, never above a little flirtation with a handsome man. And Stephanie Jackson’s husband ranked close to the top of the list. At least for the men in our town and neighboring ones. “How’s the adoption going?”
“We’re getting there. Stephanie’s doing a great job of saving. A few more months and we should be parents. We’ve decided on a girl in Mexico.”
“That’s good.” Mom patted his arm. “We won’t take any more of your time.” She slid behind the wheel and cruised around him.
“Well, Mark Jackson is innocent. Not a scratch on his car. Probably looks as good as it did when he drove it off the lot.” Mom turned right again. “Let’s cruise the neighborhood.”
An hour later, and enough gas burned to set the economy into a downward spiral, Mom conceded defeat for the night and turned into our own driveway. Lindsey sighed and slid from the backseat. She stood with head bowed, no doubt waiting for the lecture from my mother. I followed, ready to watch the show. My mom was the best at giving verbal lashings. I carried scars to prove it.
She placed a hand beneath Lindsey’s chin and tilted her face until she looked at her. “Don’t take my car without asking again. I’m glad you’re all right.” Mom kissed Lindsey’s forehead and strolled into the house.
Wow. Who was that and who stole my mother?
Lindsey glanced at me and shrugged then a grin spread across her face. “I guess she likes me better than you.”
“Oh, yeah. Go to your room. There needs to be some kind of punishment for your actions. Tomorrow, you can clean out the guest house. We’ll be moving in soon.” I smirked and sta
lked past her, leaving her mouth hanging open.
Mom sat at the kitchen table with my suspect list in front of her. She glanced up at me. “I’ve seen a green car somewhere. Do you know what any of these people drive?”
I shook my head and sat down across from her. “I don’t pay attention to what people drive. Speaking of, I’m taking off work early tomorrow to find something for myself. Little Blue deserves to be put out to pasture.”
I drummed my fingers on the table top and mulled over the day’s events. “Did you know someone stole Gloria Simpson’s litter of pups?”
“No.” Her brow furrowed.
“Can I borrow your car? I’d like to run by her house.”
“It’s after nine o’clock. That’s rude.”
“I’ll only stop if her lights are on.”
Mom shrugged. “Go ahead. But be careful. My baby’s been through enough tonight.”
Gloria lived on the other side of town so the drive took all of ten minutes. Thankfully, besides the porch light, the one in the woman’s kitchen and front room shone through sheer curtains. I cut the White Beast’s lights and pulled into the woman’s driveway. Her lights flicked off one by one.
Nice try, Gloria. I slid from the car, marched up the steps, then gave three sharp raps on the door. “Gloria, it’s Marsha Steele.”
The door opened as far as the safety chain would allow. “What do you want at this time of the night?”
“I heard about your Chihuahuas. I’d like to ask you some questions.”
The woman sighed. “Ask. I don’t know what I can tell you. I didn’t leave my house all day. I woke up, had a doughnut for breakfast, the next thing I knew Lucy whimpered and her babies were gone. I went to bed with a dreadful headache. In the middle of the day. Imagine.”
“You didn’t go anywhere?”
“Nope. At least I don’t think so. I might have gone somewhere to buy the doughnuts, but for the life of me I can’t remember. I must have though. They wouldn’t have shown up by themselves. The day’s been kind of a fog.”
Deadly Neighbors (A River Valley Mystery) Page 8