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“I’m not getting out of this car until the police make me get out. We’ll see what they think of you doing this to a poor sick old lady.”
“You aren’t poor. You aren’t sick. And you aren’t that old.”
“A lot you know,” Bella said. “Slut gold digger.”
“Get out.”
“No.”
“Get out!”
“Make me. Give me bruises so everybody can see. Then I give you the eye and you pee yourself.”
I turned on my heel and went to the front door. I rang the bell several times. No one answered. I banged on the door. Still no answer. Okay, go to plan B. Drop Bella off at Joe’s house. She was his grandmother. He could deal with her.
I stepped off the front porch and Bella drove away in the Porsche. She chirped the tires when she took off, raced down two blocks, and squealed around the corner.
I was gobsmacked. For a bunch of beats there was nothing in my head beyond mind-boggling, stupefying disbelief.
Bang!
My brain kicked in. Bella had hit something.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Crap. What the hell?
I sprinted down the street and turned the corner. There was enough ambient light from houses and the moon that I could see Bella had sideswiped three parked cars and finally jumped the curb and smashed head-on into a small tree. The tree had broken in half and the car was partially impaled on it.
Bella was struggling with the airbag when I reached her. The driver’s-side door was bashed in, and the car was hanging from the splintered tree at a forty-five-degree angle. Tiny flames were licking along the undercarriage. I wrenched the door open. My purse tumbled out and Bella followed. I dragged her away from the car and helped her get to her feet.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“I’m tough Sicilian,” she said. “This car no good. I give this car the eye.”
She touched her finger to her eye and the car burst into flames. “Whoa,” she said. “Good one.”
I was tempted to point out that the car had been on fire before she gave it the eye, but I decided it was pointless.
A cop car angle-parked at the curb. It was followed by a fire truck and a second cop car. My phone rang and I knew it was Ranger without looking at the caller ID.
“I’m okay,” I said. “Your car, not so much.”
“Babe,” he said. And he hung up.
I unlocked Bella’s cuffs and returned them to my purse. A couple firemen rolled out a hose and made sure the fire didn’t spread to the houses. Locals were standing in small groups, watching the circus. An EMT truck arrived and left when they saw Bella. A uniformed cop approached us. The tag on his uniform readCHUCK KRIZAK.
“Who was driving the vehicle?” he asked.
“Me,” Bella said.
“I’ll need to see your license,” Chuck said to Bella.
“I don’t have a license,” she said. “I’m old. I don’t need one. I only drive sometimes.”
“Did you hit any cars other than the three on this street?”
“I hit a tree. I didn’t hit cars.”
