Page 27 of Happy Krampus Xmas & the Meet Not Cute
“Wait, I’m getting inside a taxi.” As I slide on the purple back seat, a strong whiff of pumpkin latte hits my nose.
“Hello, horned friend and feathery pet. Where are we going this cold, dark evening?” The driver is a young woman with black and bright red hair styled in braids on both sides of her head, a beaky nose, and big round glasses. Her lacy black shirt and fingerless gloves give out a witchy vibe, but the white fabric flowers in her hair hippie style to me.
I’m intrigued by her fashion choices, but now is not the time to ask questions. “Follow that car!” It’s sort of a déjà vu, a pity Ollie is not here to share this with me.
“Oh, Goddess. On it! Petunia is my name, and today is your lucky day. I’m the mostdiscreetdriver in Chicago,” she exclaims. Ilove a good stalking, not when there’s a frightened child in the mix.
I give Rami the car’s plate. “I’m tailing it. There’s a woman inside with a kid. I think she’s going to hurt him.”
“Did you witness any kind of abuse on the kid? Did she kidnap him?” Rami asks over the phone.
“No. I’m not sure. But the kid looked terrified.”
“Alright. I’ll call Gabe and see who else is closer to you. Leave your phone on so Serena can keep tracking you. I’ll call you as soon as I get information on the car.” He hangs up.
“So, you’re trying to save a kid in imminent danger. You don’t look like a cop. A P.I.? Bounty hunter in disguise?” Petunia asks, her eyes slide down my weird ensemble, lingering on my red high heels. Petunias were Gran’s favorite flowers. Such an odd coincidence.
“No to all of your questions. I’m just a concerned citizen. The costume I’m wearing was for a party of sorts.” The car takes a left, so I add, “She’s turning right.”
“I see her, no worries. It’s not the first time a client asked me to tail someone. But usually, they are jealous partners or worried mothers. This sounds serious. Do you mind keeping me out of any police report if that’s where this is heading?” She doesn’t seem concerned about the probable danger we are getting ourselves into. The fact that she wants to stay on the down-low with the boys and girls in blue can be caused by numerous reasons—like my five unpaid parking tickets.
“No police. That I can promise you,” I assure her. If that woman hurts that boy, she’ll be all mine.
“You talk my language then. Hold on,” she suddenly warns me before making a hard right. “This broad is the embodiment of insanity behind the wheel.”
If only she saw me driving.
Wednesday moves inside the dog carrier, and I pet her head absently as I keep my eye on the blue car ahead.
We’ve left the Futon River District behind and are heading west toward Garfield Park when my phone goes off.
“Talk to me, Reacher.”
“The car is registered to a Milly Gordon. I sent you a picture. Is she the same woman you saw?” Rami asks.
I look at my phone screen and quickly access my email to look at the picture. “No, this woman is too old. But there’s something about her… her eyes, they look similar to the one I’m tailing.”
“Okay. Let’s see. Milly has a daughter. Martha. Here.”
“It’s definitely her,” I tell him, as I get a look at the new photo.
“Forty-five, unemployed. She started young with shoplifting then she was arrested for auto theft, and fraud. She seems to have changed lines ofworknow. She was accused of impersonating a law enforcement officer a couple of years ago, but released for lack of evidence.”
I don’t think there’s a place on the Internet that Rami can’t hack.
“I might have seen a blue uniform under her coat,” I tell him. “It didn’t look like a police one.”
He hums in contemplation. “She is single and has no kids.”
“Fuck!” I exclaim, feeling angrier by the second.
“Raph is coming your way from Austin,” Rami informs me.Where’s Gabe?“Serena has her eyes on you. Could you give me a description of the kid? I can see if there’s a missing report or something in the police database.”
I close my eyes and tune out the rest of the world, focusing only on the image of the boy inside my mind. “Around seven or eight. Blond hair, bowl cut, brown eyes. Missing one front tooth, wearing a red jacket and a blue backpack with a big yellow, round keychain.”
“Not bad. Linda’s training meditation?”
“Yes.” Linda has taught me some tricks on how to shuffle through my memories and then halt and concentrate on the one I need. We train when I go see Meg at the hospital. It helps Linda to keep her mind busy.
