“Oh, ye of little faith.”
Lee started the engine, then asked me, “How fast could you get out of that get-up if you needed to?”
“Thirty seconds if I’m allowed to destroy it. We already did in most of the seams. Why?”
“Just running through scenarios. Here we go.” He headed us down the drive toward the road.
We didn’t pass the Beauforts’ or Fletchers’ houses on the way to town, so we could only hope all was on schedule. Lee approached Main Street and Chuck Fletcher’s pawn shop by the back roads, to reduce the number of people who might see me. I held a magazine up beside my face to further mask myself from a casual glance.
Once we turned onto Main, he had to slow his pace and people waved as we passed. Folks were too damned friendly. I kept my face turned behind the magazine and hoped they couldn’t see my hair clearly.
“Coming up on the pawn shop,” Lee told me. “Put on the hat. And… bingo. Chuck’s eating at the table all right.”
I dropped the magazine, set the hat on my head with the brim dipped low on the right side, and wound down my side window so the bastard would have a good view of hair, hat, and shawl. I wanted to look over there, but this scheme would only work if I kept my face averted. “Did he see us?”
“Not yet. Not…” Suddenly Lee barked a laugh. “Oh yes, he’s spotted you. Jumped to his feet. Hang on.” He braked for the stop sign, then powered quickly through the intersection with a roar of the engine.
I took a peek in the side mirror and saw the backside of Chuck Fletcher, running around the side of the pawn shop. “Going for his car, you think?”
“Yep. No doubt. I’m going to keep driving slowly for a bit. Let him catch up.”
“You’re the one who knows this town.” I quickly rolled up my window.
“Hm. Maybe a little more speed. Don’t want to make it too easy.” Lee stepped on the gas.
We left the last of the Main Street businesses and began passing homes, each more spread out than the last, before Lee flicked a glance at his rearview. “And there he is. Hang on now.” He sped up farther, the pavement humming under our tires.
“Can you outrun him?” I asked.
“Maybe. Maybe not. He’s got some horses under that hood. But if I can make my plan work, we won’t have to.”
“What plan?”
“I might’ve bribed Bobby Olson to tell the sheriff that a couple of the young guys were planning a drag race for noon on the flat strip of road along Cedar Lake.”
After a moment’s thought, I grinned. “So you have the sheriff out there speed trapping for them.”
“And we’re luring Chuck Fletcher right to him at…” Lee checked the dashboard. “Sixty-four miles an hour. Might take that up a notch.” He stepped on the gas.
“Hey, doesn’t that mean we’ll get speed-trapped too?” I threw a quick glance behind us. Fletcher’s Buick was slowly gaining ground, although still far enough back he’d be unable to makeout my face. I wouldn’t risk turning again, though. Even if he couldn’t see my features, my skin was nothing like Peggy’s.
Lee dodged around a slower sedan. “It’s hard for the sheriff to stop two cars. We’ll blow past Tomlinson with Chuck on our tail, and he’s only going to get Chuck.”
“And if Chuck doesn’t stop for the sheriff?”
“Well, that may turn out to be more exciting than Chuckie planned for.” Lee grinned.
We’d been lucky so far that the road had been almost deserted. A van driving the other way gave us an admonishing toot on the horn as he passed. Then the Greyhound bus went by, heading toward Highcrest. We could only hope Peggy was back there waiting at the stop and would be onboard when the bus rumbled its way south out of town.
“Come on,” Lee muttered. “Keep chasing us, Chuck, you bit of gutter filth. That’s it. Ignore the bus.”
“Is it working?” I asked.
“He’s still close on our tail. Now to see how far we can lure him.” Lee took the next bend at speed and swept down toward the lakeshore. We had to slow for another family sedan ambling along, where passing was not just forbidden but potentially suicidal. “Slump in the seat,” Lee told me. “Nothing but the top of the hat visible. He’s right on my ass.”
How close was brought home when he struck our rear bumper with a thud, making the truck lurch. I grabbed the dashboard.
“Oh really?” Lee suddenly hit the gas, swerved around the sedan, and picked up speed. “You want to play that game, bozo? Come on, then.”
