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Authors: Meg London

Murder Unmentionable (18 page)

BOOK: Murder Unmentionable
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Emma shook her head. “Kate is borrowing Sylvia’s car. We thought your Mini might be too recognizable. Same thing with Liz’s bright red station wagon.” Emma peered around the corner of the porch. “They both should be here any minute now.”

“Well, I’m going to go in, then, and perform my ablutions, as my mother used to say.”

Emma looked blank.

“My toilette?” Arabella proferred. “No?” She shook her head. “I guess I’m older than I thought. Or,” she said with a smile at Emma, “I’ve become too wrapped up in the vintage world.” She paused. “I’m going to go freshen up.”

Arabella started toward the door, then stopped. “What on earth is that?”

“I don’t know.” Emma listened as the screeching got louder and closer.

They both stood at the edge of the porch and stared as Sylvia’s Cadillac lurched into view.

Arabella shook her head. “You should be very inconspicuous in that.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with the car,” Kate said as she walked up the front steps to Arabella’s house. The hair around her forehead was damp and curling, and her cheeks were flushed. “Are you ready?” She glanced at her watch.

“Yes, but I asked Liz to come, too. She should be along any minute now.”

Kate’s face took on a strange expression, but then she smiled and it was gone. “Great.”

“There she is,” Emma said as a Subaru station wagon pulled up in back of Sylvia’s car.

Liz beeped the locks and came bounding up the steps. “I hope I’m not late,” she said breathlessly. “I wanted to get the kids fed before I left so Matt wouldn’t have to.”

“We’re just about to go. Let me just grab my purse.” Emma turned back toward the swing where she’d draped her bag over the arm. “Do you want me to drive?”

Emma heard a thud, followed by a thunk, followed by a cross between a squeal and a scream. She turned around to see Kate sprawled at the bottom of the porch stairs, rubbing her head.

“Are you okay?” Emma and Liz clattered down the steps quickly and rushed to her side.

“I think so.” Kate shifted experimentally. “Nothing broken, at least.” She wobbled to her feet. “Oh.” She put a hand to her head.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing. Just feeling a little dizzy.” She sat down abruptly on the top step.

Liz frowned. “That doesn’t sound good. Maybe we should get you to a doctor.” She turned toward Emma, and Emma nodded.

“No, no,” Kate protested. “I’ll be fine.” She put a hand to her head. “I think. Besides, we’d better leave soon or we’ll miss Angel.”

“Maybe you should stay here.” Emma put a hand out.

“No! I don’t want to miss this.” Kate grabbed Emma’s hand and scrambled to her feet. She groaned and put out a hand to steady herself.

“You’re staying here,” Emma declared firmly. “Aunt Arabella won’t mind. We’ll pick you up on the way back and fill you in on all the details.”

Kate looked like she was going to cry. Emma gave her a quick hug, palmed the keys to the Caddy and went around to the driver’s side. Liz opened the passenger door, and they both got in and waved to a disconsolate-looking Kate as they pulled away from the curb.

WASHINGTON Street was almost deserted by the time they got there. Shops were dark and the sidewalks were empty, except for Let Us Cater To You where a single bulb burned toward the back of the store. Emma glanced over quickly, catching a quick glimpse of Aunt Lucy.

Emma pulled up to the curb. “What time is it?”

Liz glanced at her watch. “Just about time. Angel should be along any minute now.”

They heard a door slam and a car came around the corner from the back where the parking lots were. It was Angel driving her fire-engine-red Turbo Trans Am. Nothing inconspicuous about that car. She’d be a cinch to follow.

Angel rounded the corner with tires squealing. Emma threw the Cadillac into gear, but something was obviously wrong because it lurched three times before slowly picking up speed. By the time the speedometer reached the speed limit, Angel’s red sports car was a blur in the distance.

“Hurry, she’s getting away.”

“I’m trying.” Emma hit the gas, but nothing much happened other than that the squealing increased to epic
proportions. She prayed Angel would hit a light, and the Caddy would be able to catch up.

Luck was on their side. When they got to the corner, three cars were idling at the red light. Angel was up front, and Emma could sense her impatience to get going. When the light changed Angel shot forward and quickly put distance between herself and the other cars. Emma coaxed the Caddy up to maximum speed, which hovered around the forty-five- mile-per-hour mark. Unfortunately, Angel’s Trans Am was merely warming up at that speed.

Emma did her best, but at one point she lost sight of Angel all together.

“I don’t see her, do you?” She glanced at Liz.

Liz craned her head, her eyes focused on the window. “I’m afraid I don’t see her either.”

“Maybe we should go back? We can try another night.”

“No, wait.” Liz grabbed Emma’s arm. “Look.” She pointed out the window. “I’m sure I saw a flash of red.”

“If you say so.” Emma put pedal to the medal and the Caddy obliged by eking out an extra ten miles per hour. It was enough. Within a couple of minutes, Angel was within view.

“Where on earth is she going, do you think?”

“I have no idea,” Liz said, grabbing the door handle as the Cadillac picked up speed.

Angel slowed, and Emma was able to ease up on the gas, although the Caddy continued to squeal like a pig at the slaughter. Angel pulled into the driveway of a large, beige brick, lit up building.

“Look,” Liz pointed to a large sign with
Tennessee Technology Center
written on it in large, black letters.

“What?” Emma was so startled she momentarily took her foot off the gas, and the Caddy rumbled to a stop. “What is Angel doing
here
?”

“Maybe she’s seeing one of the teachers?” Liz stared out the window.

“Could she be a student? People of all ages go back to school—they’re not all teenagers.”

“True.” Liz admitted. She turned toward Emma. “But Angel?”

Emma shrugged her shoulders. Three or four more cars pulled into the lot, swerving around Emma and zooming into parking spaces. Emma eased up on the gas and began to move forward. Angel was getting out of her car with what looked like books under her arm. Emma was more confused than ever.

There was a space five cars beyond where Angel had parked the Trans Am. Emma thought she’d park there and follow Angel on foot. As the Caddy approached the space, Emma gently tapped the brake. Nothing. She tried again.

“Where are you going?” Liz asked in alarm. “Don’t you think you should park?”

The Caddy not only sailed on past the empty parking space but began to pick up speed. Emma applied the brake in earnest. Still nothing.

“Stop, Emma. Stop.”

“I’m trying.” Emma stomped the brake again.

Her heart sped up in time to the Caddy’s speedometer. “I don’t know what’s wrong.” She stomped the brake as hard as she could, sending it to the floor.

Nothing.

Emma began to panic in earnest. The row of cars went by in a blur, and pedestrians jumped out of the way, their mouths open in alarm. She stomped the brake again and again.

“I think the gas pedal is stuck or something.”

Liz quickly unbuckled her seat belt. “Let me see if I can fix it.” She slid half off her seat and leaned forward, sweeping a hand under the gas pedal.

Emma, meanwhile, continued trying to steer around
obstacles in her path—a girl in skinny jeans and a cropped T-shirt, a dark blue SUV that hung out of its space by several inches, a row of gnarly looking bushes alongside the sidewalk. The blur through her windshield sped up like a film strip out of control. She had to do something.

But what?

Liz sat back in her seat and refastened her belt. “I can’t fix it. I don’t know what’s wrong.” She looked out the window. “Maybe you should drive onto the lawn? That might slow us down.”

Emma aimed Sylvia’s Caddy toward the grass. She pictured Liz and herself jumping out of their seats like in old cowboy movies where people jettisoned themselves from runaway stagecoaches.

The Caddy bumped over the curb and started across the lawn. Emma’s teeth knocked together as the car negotiated the rutted terrain. She clung to the steering wheel for dear life, not so much steering the car as aiming it around obstacles in its path. Liz held onto the sissy strap, and Emma could see how white her face had become in the glow of the passing lamps. The back of Emma’s dress was soaked, and her hands were slippery on the wheel. She kept the brake pressed to the floor, but it wasn’t slowing her progression across the lawn of the Tennessee Technology Center.

Emma glanced in her rearview mirror to see several dozen people running after her and the Caddy. She thought she saw Angel in the crowd, moving awkwardly in her high-heeled sandals. She’d managed to follow Angel all right, but whether she lived to find out what Angel was doing at the Tennessee Technology Center was another story.

Suddenly, a dark shape loomed in the distance. Another tree. Liz partially stifled a scream, and Emma gritted her teeth and prepared to swerve around it. People were still walking across the lawn, laughing, talking and joking, unaware that a runaway Cadillac was on the loose. Emma
fought the urge to close her eyes as she narrowly missed a couple strolling arm-in-arm, locked in a tight embrace.

The tree almost filled her window when she jerked the wheel to avoid it. Too late she saw a fellow in a T-shirt and baseball cap standing in her path.

“Emma, watch out!” Liz screamed.

This time Emma did close her eyes. She winced as something thudded against her windshield and then crashed to the ground, rolling behind her. A sob caught in her throat, and she sent up a prayer for help. Surely there was some way to stop this wretched car.

Emma yanked on the emergency brake, and the car slowed slightly, the tires churning more heavily through the turf. A row of bushes bordered the edge of the lawn, and they were coming closer with each passing second. The road beyond was empty at the moment, but there was no guarantee it would stay that way. It was now or never.

Emma got a good grip on the wheel and angled the car so that the first bushes in the row hit it toward the side. Branches slapped against the windshield, and twigs, leaves and bits of bark slithered down the hood of the car. Emma hit the next bush and the next. The needle on the speedometer dropped to thirty miles per hour, then twenty-five miles per hour. Finally she came to the last bush. The lawn sloped slightly upward just beyond it. The Caddy smacked the bush, bending and breaking dozens of branches, then hit the incline and sputtered to a stop.

AS soon as the car rocked to a stop, Emma scrabbled for the door handle.

“Where are you going?” Liz asked.

“I have to get help,” Emma gasped. She had to go back and get help for whoever it was she had hit. She thought it was the guy in the baseball cap, but she wasn’t sure. She just prayed there was still hope. If they got the paramedics there on time…

Emma’s hands were shaking so badly, she couldn’t grasp the car door handle. Suddenly, the door was yanked open, and someone stuck his head inside the car.

“You ladies okay?” The man smiled at them.

Emma looked around and saw that the crowd that had been chasing the Caddy had caught up with her.

“We’re fine. But we have to check on that man. The one in the baseball cap.” She babbled incoherently. “I didn’t mean to hit him.”

The guy laughed, and Emma suddenly realized that he
was wearing a baseball cap. Was he the same young guy who…

He stuck out a hand and helped her from the car. “Come on.” He waited as Liz scrambled from the passenger seat then led them back over the grass, toward where Emma thought she’d run him down.

“See?” He motioned toward a trail of decaying food, discarded paper and fruit and vegetable peels that littered the lawn in a wide swathe.

“What?” Emma swayed, and the young man put out a hand to steady her. “I hit someone. I know I did.” She began to cry softly.

He shook his head. “You hit a trash bag. I was carrying it, and when I saw you coming toward me, I freaked and tossed it in the air. It hit your windshield and exploded.” He indicated the debris.

Now Emma’s legs really began to give way. She hadn’t hit anyone! No one was injured or dead. Everything was going to be okay.

“Emma! What on earth are you doing?” Angel caught up to them. The twist in her hair was slightly askew, and perspiration gleamed on her upper lip. She glared at Liz.

“I…I…” Emma stammered.

Angel glanced at the young man in the cap. “It’s okay. I’ll make sure they get home. Don’t you worry your little head about a thing.”

Angel began moving Emma and Liz away from the crowd, which had started to disperse.

“Just what on earth did you two think you were doing?” Angel hissed as soon as they were out of earshot of the other students.

Emma flashed back to her dear, departed Uncle Maxwell. He always said, “When you know you’re wrong, take the offense.”

“Well, I could ask you the same thing,” Emma said trying
to sound firm despite the shakiness in her voice. “What are you doing here?”

BOOK: Murder Unmentionable
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