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“What’s wrong?” Gus took her hand alarmed.
“I’m fine. I was just thinking about your truck. Is there much damage?”
“There’s a new dent in the fender, but otherwise the old girl’s fine.” Gus shook his head. “What kind of moron uses a Prius to ram anything? I’m surprised he managed to drive away.” He helped Theo stand. “Careful…are you all right? Mac will drive you home—it’ll be more comfortable than the truck. I’ll follow.”
Theo thanked the paramedics and allowed her brother and Etheridge to guide her gently into the passenger seat of a black Mercedes Benz S-Class Coupe. She settled into the soft leather upholstery, and Etheridge showed her the button to control the seat warmer. It was indeed comfortable.
“Gus, there are groceries in the back of the truck,” Theo murmured grabbing his sleeve. “I was going to cook a roast…and a pavlova.”
“Good grief! Why?”
“I wanted to say… I just thought I would.”
Gus smiled. “I can manage the roast, I think. But we may have to leave the pav for a couple of days.”
He patted the roof of the Mercedes and signaled Etheridge to drive on.
As they pulled out on the road, Theo apologized for disrupting his day and Gus’s. Etheridge laughed. “You gave us both an excuse to leave a very dull meeting.”
“Are you one of Gus’s partners?” Theo asked shyly.
“No, I’m not a lawyer, I’m afraid.”
“Oh…Gus called you a colleague.”
“I work for Gus sometimes when he needs information, or people checked out or found.”
“You’re a private investigator?”
“More a researcher.”
Etheridge parked the Mercedes on the street in front of Gus’s house, leaving the driveway clear for the pickup. He sat in the car and chatted with Theo. She told him what exactly had happened.
“He rammed you on purpose?” Mac asked, clearly appalled.
“Yes. He followed me from Prairie Village. I saw him outside the restaurant.”
“He was following you? Why?”
Theo found herself telling him. Slowly, hesitantly at first, then in a kind of headlong confessional rush. She was aware she was doing so, but not sure why. He was, after all, almost a complete stranger and yet she was confiding in him about the most horrifying, terrifying moments of her life. For the most part, he listened with only the occasional nod. She told him about the man she’d seen leave Dan’s house, what she’d found in there, and the man with blond dreadlocks who had tried to follow her home the next day.
“Have you told the police about this clown?” he asked in the end. “The hair mightn’t be real, but that cobweb tattoo sounds like an identifying mark.”
Theo nodded. “But until today he was just a weirdo who was trying to…well, I’m not sure what he was trying to do. He didn’t ram his car into mine until today.”
Gus arrived, pulling into the driveway. He climbed out and inspected the back of his battered pickup as Theo opened the door of the Mercedes. Mac Etheridge slid out from behind the wheel and ran around the car to help Theo out. It might have been quaintly gallant or because the seats were so low that a hand was welcome.
“Sorry I took so long,” Gus said. “The back bumper fell off at Ninth and Vermont—had to stop to pick it up.” He pulled a face. “It was a little embarrassing, to tell the truth.” He handed Mac a large bag of groceries and took the other two himself. “Why don’t you stay for dinner, Mac?” He looked pointedly at the bags. “Looks like we have plenty of food.”
Theo could hear Gus and Mac in the kitchen when she stepped out of the shower. Wiping the condensation from the mirror, she inspected the gravel rash and bruising on the right side of her body and face and glanced regrettably at the sorry remnants of her sage velvet jacket. She put on a dress because it was loose and soft against the damaged parts of her, and went downstairs.
Gus refused to let her help with the cooking and banished her to the couch. “I’ll be right. If I remember correctly, we just add salt and throw everything in the oven for a couple of hours.” He handed Etheridge a beer and tossed Theo a bottle of Tylenol. “You better take a couple of these,” he said filling a glass from the tap.
Theo didn’t fight him. She was suddenly tired and sore. Taking the Tylenol, she retired to the couch with Horse to keep her company. She tried not to think about what Gus was doing to the beautiful cut of meat she’d chosen. Mac Etheridge brought her a mug of tea.
“How’s it going in there?” she whispered.
He smiled. “Touch and go… He’s making the batter now.”
