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At least Hodge’s disappearance wasn’t into thin air. Vanessa had made more phone calls, which revealed the sergeant had been transferred to one of the Model City precincts. Not only was it a downward move, it took him out of Amanda’s circle. Unfortunately, she hadn’t the nerve to go to Hodge’s new station and ask him why they’d been sent to Techwood Homes on such a fool’s errand.
Not that Amanda wasn’t capable of other useless errands. The last few days had been a test of her two warring sides. She longed to put the whole Techwood ordeal behind her, but her curiosity would not let it go. Her sleepless nights were not just filled with fear. They were filled with questions.
Amanda wanted to think that her cop’s curiosity had been piqued, but the honest truth was that she was coasting on nothing more than woman’s intuition. The whore who was living in Kitty Treadwell’s apartment had put the bug in Amanda’s ear. Something wasn’t right there. She could feel it in her bones.
Which is why Amanda had done some poking around that had exacerbated her already frayed nerves. Stupid poking around that would probably get back to her father and land her in hot water not just with Duke, but with the higher-ups in the police force.
Amanda closed her textbook. And she especially hadn’t the stomach to read Phyllis Schlafly’s rebuttal to the Equal Rights Amendment. Amanda was sick and tired of being told how to live her life by women who never had to write their own rent checks.
“What’s the skinny?”
Amanda jumped so hard she nearly slammed her book into her face. She shushed Evelyn Mitchell, then turned around to check on Peterson.
“Sorry,” Evelyn whispered. She put her hand on the door handle, but Amanda slammed down the lock. Evelyn stood outside the car, unmoved. “You know the window is down, right?”
Behind her, Vanessa Livingston giggled.
Reluctantly, Amanda unlocked the door and got out of the car. She whispered, “What do you want?”
Evelyn whispered back, “We’re trading. You for Nessa.”
“No way.” The brass wouldn’t care, but Amanda had no intention of ever partnering with Evelyn Mitchell again. She started to get back into the car. Evelyn caught her arm, and Vanessa squeezed past, slipping into the seat and carefully latching the door.
Amanda stood in the empty parking lot, wanting to slap them both.
Evelyn told Vanessa, “We’ll be back in a few hours.”
“Take your time.” Vanessa checked Peterson. “I don’t think he’s going anywhere.”
Evelyn used her finger to swipe the side of her nose, à la Robert Redford in The Sting. Vanessa did the same.
“This is ridiculous,” Amanda muttered, reaching into the car to retrieve her purse and textbook.
“Oh, cheer up,” Evelyn said. “Maybe we’ll find some mud for you to stick in.”
Evelyn drove her Ford Falcon up North Avenue. The station wagon was now devoid of moving boxes and filled with various baby items. Except for the radio on the seat between them, there was nothing that would indicate a police officer drove this car. The vinyl seat felt sticky under Amanda’s legs. As an only child with no cousins, she was seldom around children. Amanda could not help but think that Zeke Mitchell had secreted a vile substance onto the vinyl.
“Pretty day,” Evelyn said.
She had to be joking. The noontime sun was so intense that Amanda’s eyes were watering. She shielded her eyes from the glare.
Evelyn reached into her purse and slipped on a pair of Foster Grants. “I think I have another pair.” She dug around in her bag.
“No, thank you.” Amanda had seen the same glasses at Richway. They cost at least five dollars.
“Suit yourself.” Evelyn zipped closed her purse. She drove like an old woman, slowing for yellow lights, letting anyone pass who showed the slightest desire. She kept one foot on the gas and one on the brake. By the time they pulled into the Varsity drive-in, Amanda was ready to grab the wheel and push her out of the car.
Evelyn mumbled, “Steady, Freddy.” With great concentration, she angled the Falcon into a parking spot close to the North Avenue entrance. The brakes squealed as she pumped the pedal, inching up slowly until she felt the tires bump against the barrier. Finally, Evelyn shifted the gear into park. The engine knocked when she turned off the ignition. The car shook.
Evelyn turned in her seat, facing Amanda. “Well?”
“Why did you bring me here? I couldn’t possibly eat.”
“I think I prefer when you’re not speaking to me.”
“Your wish is my command,” Amanda snapped back. But then she couldn’t help herself. “You almost got me raped.”
Evelyn leaned back against the door. “In my defense, both of us were going to be raped.”
Amanda shook her head. The woman was incapable of taking anything seriously.
Evelyn said, “We made it through okay.”
“Spare me your positive energy.”
Evelyn was silent. She turned back around. She kept her hands in her lap. Amanda stared straight ahead at the menu board. The words jumbled around senselessly. In her head, Amanda listed again all the things she had to do before she could go to sleep tonight. The more she thought about it, the harder the tasks seemed. She was too tired to do any of it. She was too tired to even be here.
“Damn, gal.” Evelyn’s voice was deep, an approximation of the pimp’s baritone. “You a fine-lookin’ woman.”
Amanda gripped the textbook in her lap. “Stop it.”
Evelyn, as usual, was oblivious. “You is fi-ine.”
Amanda turned her head away, leaning her chin on her hand. “Please, be quiet.”
“Gone get me some’a that hog tush.”
“Oh, for God’s sakes,” Amanda sputtered. “He didn’t say that!” Her lips were trembling, but for the first time in four days it wasn’t because she was forcing back tears.
“Mmm-hmm,” Evelyn goaded, moving her hips obscenely in the seat. “Fine-lookin’ woman.”
Amanda couldn’t stop her lips from curving upward. And then, she was laughing. There was no controlling it, even if she tried. Her mouth opened wide. She felt a lessening of pressure not just from the sound, but from the release of air that had been trapped in her lungs like a poison. Evelyn was laughing, too, which seemed the funniest part of all. Before long, they were both doubled over in their seats, tears streaming down their faces.
“Afternoon, ladies.” The carhop was at Evelyn’s window. His hat was rakishly tilted to the side. He slapped a number card on their windshield and smiled at them both as if he was in on the joke. “What’ll ya have?”
Amanda wiped tears from her eyes. For the first time in days, she was hungry. “Bring me a Glorified Steak and some strings. And a P.C.”
Evelyn said, “I’ll have the same. Add a fried pie.”
“Wait,” Amanda called him back. “I’ll have a fried pie, too.”
Evelyn was still chuckling when he left. “Oh, Lord.” She sighed. She tilted the mirror and used the tip of her pinky finger to fix her eyeliner. “Lord,” she repeated. “I haven’t been able to even think about eating since …” She didn’t have to finish the sentence. Neither of them would have to finish that sentence ever again.
