Page 39 of It takes a Psychic

Roxy was on board.

Chapter Sixteen

“This doesn’t look good,” Leonasaid.

She leaped to her feet and started toward the pond.

“I dunno.” Oliver rose and fell into step beside her. “Looks like fun.”

“Faster,” the boy shouted. “Make it go faster.”

“You know what Dad said,” the girl warned. “If we crash it, we won’t get another one.”

“It’s supposed to go fast. Here, give me the remote.”

The boy grabbed the control box and rezzed one of the buttons. Out on the pond the boat picked up speed. Roxy was chortling madly now, clearly thrilled. The blue ribbons of the fascinator streamed out behind her like a banner. Her fur was plastered back by the breeze.

“Slow it down,” the girl said. “It’s going to hit the other side of the pond.”

“Okay, okay.” The boy did something to one of the controls. “It’s stuck. It won’t move.”

“It’s going to crash,” the girl yelped. “Do something.”

Leona watched, stunned. If the speeding boat smashed into the stone rim on the opposite side of the pond, Roxy would be injured, maybe even killed.

“Roxy,” she shouted, “jump.Jump!”

The boy holding the control box had frozen.

“Dad is going to be so mad,” the girl whispered.

“Roxy, jump,” Leona called.

“Let me see that,” Oliver said. He plucked the control box from the boy’s unresisting hands and experimented with the buttons. “You’re right. The throttle is stuck and the controls are not responding.”

“The dust bunny is gonna crash into the wall along with the boat,” the boy said, horrified. “And it’s gonna be my fault.”

“Roxy,” Leona yelled again. “Jump. Please, jump.”

Roxy chortled, rezzed on dust bunny adrenaline. She was evidently oblivious to the danger.

The whine of the yacht’s little motor ceased abruptly. The vessel stopped with a jerky movement. Unprepared for the sudden deceleration, Roxy went overboard into the water. She surfaced immediately, still chortling. The fascinator was waterlogged but it was still approximately in place.

She swam to the edge of the pond and vaulted up out of the water, onto the stone rim. She gave herself a shake to fluff out her fur, and then bustled toward Leona.

“Thank heavens,” Leona whispered.

She looked at Oliver. So did the youngsters.

“How did you stop it, sir?” the boy asked, impressed.

Oliver opened one hand and displayed the small amber batteries he had removed from the control box.

“Oh, yeah,” the boy said. He looked at Oliver, eyes widening in admiration. “I should have thought of that.”

Leona winced, chagrined. “I should have thought of it, too.”

“In my experience, simple plans work best,” Oliver said.

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