The Game Changer, стр. 66
“That’s an awfully big truck you’ve got there, Wilma Louise,” Daisy said. “Mind if we ask you a few questions?” That was my line. I beamed with pride. Who knew—if Daisy could pick up reporter habits, maybe I could pick up baking habits. Not likely, but it was a nice thought.
“I’m busy,” Wilma Louise said.
“We’ll only take a minute,” I said.
“Did you not hear me? You need to move your car!” Dairy Dude hollered.
“This was your husband’s truck, correct?” I asked.
“I’ve got an appointment,” Wilma Louise said. She made another attempt to get into the truck, grunting and pulling, but no such luck.
“You know,” Daisy said, patting the side of the truck. “If I had a truck this big, I don’t know if I’d feel comfortable driving it. Would you, Hollis? It just looks so hard to maneuver.”
“I’m talking to you two!” Dairy Dude yelled.
“Definitely not,” I said. “Especially if I owned something smaller, like a BMW or Porsche or…oh, I don’t know, a Jaguar?”
“Me, too,” Daisy said. “I would have such trouble getting into a monster like this one, I’d be much happier running my errands in a little car.”
“I’m calling the cops!” Dairy Dude yelled.
By then, Brooks had caught up with us and pulled into the lot on the other side of my car. He looked thoroughly perplexed.
“Ha ha!” Dairy Dude yelled. “Guess they read my mind. You’re gonna get a ticket now. Good job, Officer! Doing great work, there!”
Brooks ignored him. “The thing about letting someone follow you is not taking off before he’s in the car,” he said to me. “What’s going on here?”
“Throw the book at her, Officer! Can’t have people like her running around Parkwood, just taking spots that aren’t meant for parking.”
“I mean, what would make you take a truck like this out and about if you had something sleek and small—and much more suited to your wardrobe—at home?” Daisy pointed at Wilma’s ensemble. “That skirt and those shoes—wow, where did you get those shoes?—would look great in a Jaguar. Don’t you own a Jaguar, Wilma Louise?”
“You guys are in over your heads here,” Brooks said. “And you broke about ten traffic laws, by the way.”
I turned to him indignantly. “In over my head? I have worked murder cases with much tougher suspects than this one.”
Wilma Louise’s eyes got big. Dairy Dude’s eyes got big. The eyes of the two teens got big. “Murder?” they all said at once.
“I can’t talk right now.” Wilma Louise was trying doubly hard to get into her truck, but the more panicked she got, the harder it seemed to get for her and she kept plopping back into the parking lot.
“Hey! Why aren’t you giving her a ticket?” Dairy Dude yelled. “She’s parked illegally!”
“I wonder how many Jaguars there are in River Fork,” Daisy said contemplatively. She leaned against the truck as if deep in thought. “Any guesses, Wilma Louise? I mean, since you own a Jaguar and all. Probably not that many. Someone’s Jaguar would really stand out in a crowd around here, don’t you think?”
“Why are you talking about murder and Jaguars?” Wilma Louise asked. She shook her head. “I’ve got errands to run, and my milkshake is melting. I don’t know anything about murder. And I don’t know anything about a Jaguar.”
She gave another oomph at getting into the truck. This time she was successful.
“I would like to press charges,” Dairy Dude yelled. “Trespassing!”
“Stop yelling!” Brooks and I both hollered at the same time. Dairy Dude’s mouth hung open, then he slammed the screen shut and then the window behind it, angrily slapping up a CLOSED sign.
“Hey,” the boy said, sadly waving his dollar bill. “I was gonna buy a cone.”
“Hollis?” Daisy said.
I turned back to Brooks. “I’m hardly in over my head. My partner and I are solving your case. While you were running around after Evangeline—”
“You were blaming a kid!” He put his hands on his hips.
I matched his hands-on-hips pose. “A kid who publicly threatened to kill Farley! It wasn’t that far of a leap.”
“Guys?” Daisy said.
“Open up! I want a zebra cone!” the boy said, pounding on the closed window. Dairy Dude shook his head defiantly inside, jabbing his finger at the CLOSED sign.
“At least we knew that our suspect was somehow involved,” Brooks said.
“Yeah, she was another victim!” I said. “What kind of victory is that?”
“You guys!” Daisy said, stepping between us, wild-eyed. “She’s getting away.”
We all turned toward the truck. It roared into life and immediately began backing out of the parking lot.
“No!” I said, scrambling after the truck. “I just want to talk to you!”
But Wilma Louise whipped the truck around to leave the lot.
Brooks had gone back to his car and picked up the radio.
“You distracted me,” I said.
“Let’s go! Let’s go!” Daisy yelled, hopping into the passenger seat of my car. She leaned over and turned the ignition.
“You distracted me,” he said.
“Come on!” Daisy growled from inside the car. “You guys can fight later.”
“We weren’t figh—okay.” I slid in, threw the car into reverse, and went after Wilma Louise.
For such a huge vehicle, that truck could really move. I had my pedal pressed all the way down trying to keep up. Of course, it didn’t help that Wilma Louise basically ignored all traffic laws.
Daisy held onto the center console with one hand and gripped the ceiling handle with the other, shouting out directions. “Left! She went left!”
I could see Brooks in my rearview mirror, lights blazing and sirens sounding. To all the world, it looked as if he was trying to pull me over and we were involved in some sort of high-speed chase. I saw people stop and stare