Page 94 of The Perils of Paulie
“Good morning,” I called back, and waited until Paulie crawled out of the car in her jeans and shirt. “I intended on staying awake, but I guess you having your wanton way with me did me in.”
“Can’t talk—gotta pee like a racehorse,” she said, trotting to the farmhouse.
I went to the side of the barn, remembering the farmer pointing with pride to the toilet and ramshackle sink that had been included in a lean-to that looked like it had been tacked to a wall, and with a cheery nod and wave at the two sons, I used the facilities. I was just heading to the farmhouse with thoughts of country ham and eggs, and perhaps some homemade marmalade, when Paulie burst out of the house, shouting and waving her hands in the air.
“They’re gone! Those bastards, I knew it! I knew they would cheat! Hurry up—they have an hour on us!”
“What? How?” I dashed to the main entrance of the barn, swearing profanely at the empty space where the Zust had sat the night before.
“They left us here, those rotters.” Paulie was panting when she got to me, her phone in her hand. Behind her, Anton emerged from the house, hopping on one leg while he tied the shoelaces of another shoe.
I paused. “Why is Anton here?”
“They left him behind, too. Oh, I am so going to rat them out to Roger.” She started typing frantically on her phone.
Anton got his shoe on properly and met us halfway to the Thomas Flyer. “I just woke up. Is it true? Is the car gone?” he asked.
I waved at the barn. “So it seems. Why did they leave you?”
He made a face. “They wanted to do something to your car, and I said I wasn’t having any of it. I’m not saying I wouldn’t do many things to make sure my team was ahead of yours, but nothing underhanded. Nothing... devious.”
“Devious and underhanded like telling the border guards that we were smuggling a weapon into Russia?” I asked.
Anton had the grace to look abashed. “I... that... I’m profoundly sorry about that. When they explained the plan to me, I thought it would simply mean a little delay for you. I had no idea they would strip-search you and retain you for hours. I’m just glad there was nothing for the guards to find.”
Paulie started to say something about the gun, but at a quelling look from me, she changed it to, “Yeah, well, I notice you didn’t bother telling Roger what you did.”
He spread his hands in a placatory gesture. “I apologized for my part once Roger told me what happened.”
“Was it you who took our spare tires?” I asked, one thought leading to another.
“No.” He looked profoundly uncomfortable. “I told Sanders that was too underhanded and that, while I wanted to win the race, I didn’t think we needed to be dishonest to do it. The Zust is a fast car, and we can easily outrun the Thomas Flyer.”
Paulie snorted indignantly and glanced at her phone when it burbled at her.
“I don’t understand why they would leave you behind,” I said, mulling over what he’d said. I wasn’t certain he was telling the truth, but if he wasn’t, it meant he had been left behind as a plant. But for what purpose? To slow us up? Or to take us out of the race entirely?
“Got a response from Roger. He says it’s not against the rules to leave before us. The idiot.” Paulie lookeddisgusted. “I told him the Esses left Anton behind, and he said that also is not against the rules, although frowned upon, and asked us if we’d give you a lift to Warsaw.”
“I’d appreciate that,” Anton said, his expression worried.
“I just bet you would.” Paulie narrowed her eyes on Anton. “And I’m going to ask you a question, and I expect a straight answer to it.”
He stiffened. “I do not make a habit of lying.”
“Uh-huh. Are you working for my father?”
He blinked twice. “Who is your father?”
“That’s avoiding answering the question. Yes or no—are you working for him?”
“Unless your father is a member of parliament from a small constituency in the north of Scotland, then no, I do not work for him.”
Paulie looked startled. “You work in Scotland? But you’re Russian.”
“I was born in Ukraine, but my parents emigrated shortly thereafter.” He frowned at Paulie. “Who is your father?”
“The carpet king of Northern California.” She chewed her lower lip. “Damn. That means I was all wrong about you.”
