Page 3 of Last Witch Attempt
“Because you’re blessed with your grandmother Ginger’s looks. Goddess bless her soul.” Aunt Tillie looked momentarily serene when pressing her hand to her heart. Then she snapped out of it. “You look like an angel. All that blond hair is like a halo. Men fall for it … showing they really are the simpler sex.” She jangled the keys again.
“What do you expect me to do?”
“Get the truck and meet us around the bend. Then we’ll head home.”
“But why? Why can’t you just talk to them? They’re probably only here because they can’t figure out what the truck is doing on the side of the road in the middle of the night.”
“You know how I feel about ‘The Man,’” she fired back. “Get the truck.”
“But I don’t even have a driver’s license.”
“What do you mean?” Aunt Tillie looked taken aback. “How old are you?”
“I turn sixteen in two weeks,” I replied. “I don’t have a license. I just have a learner’s permit.”
“Good enough.” Aunt Tillie beamed at me.
“I need another licensed driver with me. Even then I’m only allowed to drive between certain hours.”
“Geez.” Aunt Tillie slapped her hand—the one holding the keys—against her face. “Just more unnecessary government bureaucracy. Haven’t I told you that all authority figures are unnecessary?”
“That does us no good now,” Thistle argued. “You have to deal with them. You’re the adult.”
“I really wish I’d left you in the woods,” Aunt Tillie grumbled. “Fine.” She shoved the pillowcase into Clove’s hand. “Don’t lose that and under no circumstances let them have it.”
Clove started shaking her head. “I don’t want to go to jail. I’m too pretty.”
“I’ll leave you out here for Bigfoot if you’re not careful,” Aunt Tillie warned. Her shoulders were squared when she climbed the rest of the distance to the road and started toward her truck. “Let me do the talking.”
I was fine with that, at least in theory.
Aunt Tillie pulled a fake smile out of the ether as we approached the two state troopers going over her truck. “Gentlemen, how may I help you this fine evening?”
Both of the troopers were indeed men. One was older, with a thick caterpillar-like mustache. Aunt Tillie called it a pornstache, but I only had a vague idea what that might mean.
The other trooper was younger, his face clean shaven. He didn’t seem as full of bravado as the older trooper.
“Is this your vehicle, ma’am?” the older trooper asked.
“I’m not answering any questions without a lawyer present,” Aunt Tillie replied. “And let me tell you something, my attorney is a firecracker. She’s going to make sure I own your house before it’s all said and done, Officer Gillette.”
“How do you know my name?” the trooper demanded.
“It’s on your shirt, genius,” Aunt Tillie replied, waving her hand. “It’s the same way I know that the little one with the peach fuzz is Officer Scoggins.”
Man, she really did have the eyes of a hawk. I couldn’t make out the names on their uniforms from this far away but she had no problem with it.
Gillette straightened. He seemed thrown for a moment, then recovered. “Ma’am, is this your vehicle?”
“What did I say? I’m not answering any questions until my attorney is present. She’s a shark.”
“You haven’t been charged with anything, ma’am. We’re just trying to ascertain if this is your vehicle.”
Aunt Tillie folded her arms across her chest. “Call my lawyer.”
I knew if I didn’t take control of this situation that it was going to spiral out of control. “What’s the problem?” My nerves were showing when I stepped forward but I did my best to keep my face impassive. “Is there a law about parking on the side of the road in the middle of the night?” If so, I should probably learn that one before I have to take my driving test.
“Actually, we stopped to make sure there wasn’t a problem,” Gillette replied. “We passed through here two hours ago and thevehicle wasn’t here. Now it is.” He cocked his head. “Is that your grandmother?”
