Chapter 30
Vero’s handcuffs rattled as I hustled her to Officer Oates’s car. “We can’t just leave, Finlay!”
“You have a better option? You got caught at a frat party and I stole a police car, Vero. Bennett made us a reasonable deal. Just be thankful those sirens they heard weren’t for us.”
“Way to spin it,” she said drily as I deposited her into the passenger seat.
“Since you’re determined to look at the bright side, maybe you and I can be cellmates when they send us to prison.
Plus, you’ll have a lot more time to write your books.
You and Mrs. Haggerty can start working together on those sex scenes Sylvia wants you to help her with.
Once you’ve been locked up for a while, I bet all that pent-up frustration will give you plenty of inspiration to—”
I slammed the door. I wasn’t going to prison for this. And I damn sure wasn’t starting a writing club with Mrs. Haggerty.
“Where are we going?” Vero asked as I got in and started the car.
I considered our options. We didn’t have many under the circumstances.
“Back to your sorority house. If Ava didn’t give the money to her cousin, she must have given it to someone else.
This might be our last chance to figure out who.
But first, we need to get rid of this car.
” If we could dump it close to where the party was held and wipe it down, Officer Oates would have a harder time proving I actually took it.
I could just say I helped Vero out of the back seat when everyone was running from the house.
I doubted anyone bothered to notice us drive off during all the chaos after Cam’s bomb threat.
I drove out of the industrial complex, checking for police cars before merging onto the road.
Vero looked over her shoulder as the sirens grew louder. “They sound close. You think Bennett reported us?”
My eyes darted to my mirrors. “I don’t see any lights. Let’s just keep driving. They probably aren’t for us.”
I set a course back to the neighborhood where we’d fled the party.
By now police would have set up a perimeter, advising people to stay in their homes while they searched for a gangly college kid with a bomb strapped to his belt.
We wouldn’t be able to dump the car exactly where we’d stolen it, but I could try to park it as close as I could manage without anyone spotting us.
“Finlay?” Vero ducked low in her seat as she stared at her side mirror.
I checked my rearview. Blue lights appeared in the distance, closing in fast. “I see them,” I said, my palms starting to sweat.
I made a sharp right turn off the main artery, onto a side street.
It was pocked with potholes and barely passable for all the vehicles parked along each side.
I made it a quarter mile before I caught the reflection of blue lights a few blocks behind me.
“Shit,” I muttered. I made another series of quick turns, hoping to lose them within the quiet maze of the neighborhood. We were still half a mile from the party, but it would have to be close enough.
I pulled over and killed the headlights, careful to park the car far from any streetlamps before turning off the engine.
The sirens made a few close whoops, as if they’d slowed down, searching for something.
“How are they still following us?” Vero twisted in her seat, peeking over the back of it.
“I don’t know! We were too far ahead of them when I made all those turns.
There’s no way they could have tailed us.
And it’s not like they could have tracked your …
Oh god,” I said as a blinking light caught my attention near her foot.
I stared at Vero’s ankle monitor. Vero looked down, too.
Her eyes went wide. Her GPS light was flashing erratically, but when the indicator was on, it was definitely green. “We have to get out of here. Now!”
I grabbed a baby wipe from my purse and hurriedly wiped down the steering wheel, the dashboard, and the door.
I tossed the keys under the floor mat. Then I raced to the other side of the car to help Vero get out.
I dragged her with me between two houses.
We both ducked as I speed-dialed Cam. He answered on the third ring and put me on speaker.
The telltale sounds of a video game played in the background.
“Cam? I need your help!” I said urgently.
“It’s not really a good time, Mrs. D. Zoey and I are in the middle of a campaign—”
“We have a very big problem,” I said, careful to keep my voice down as I peered over the top of the shrubbery. “I need you to check Vero’s signal. I think the cops know where we are.”
“You’ve got nothing to worry about. After that dunk it took in the pool, I seriously doubt that thing is—”
“Just check it!”
“Okay, jeez!” There was a shuffling sound, then the clatter of computer keys through the phone. “Huh. That’s weird,” Cam said in a low voice.
“Is she transmitting?”
“Kind of.”
“What do you mean, kind of?”
“Her signal comes and goes. But if I can see it, everyone else can, too.”
Fuck! The blue lights were getting closer.
I didn’t know how much time we had, but I didn’t imagine it would take long for them to find us.
“I’ve got to go!” I disconnected, grabbed Vero, and bolted, cutting through several backyards.
We couldn’t afford to be found anywhere near Officer Oates’s car.
“Where are we going?” Vero asked, struggling to keep up with her hands behind her back.
“I don’t know. We have to find a way to get that thing on your ankle to stop transmitting.”
“We could smash it,” she suggested.
“It’ll look like you disabled it on purpose.
” We could argue that falling in the pool had been an accident, but intentionally destroying it would come with added jail time.
“Water,” I panted, fighting a stitch in my side.
“Water worked the last time. We’ll just douse it again. Look for a garden hose.”
There were chain-link fences around every backyard but one.
The lights were off inside. Maybe they had a hose bib.
I started toward it. A dog in the neighbor’s yard gave a warning bark.
It charged toward the fence and lunged at us, starting a chorus of other dogs barking and howling all around us.
A few interior lights came on. A door opened.
If those dogs didn’t shut up, someone was going to call the cops.
Vero and I tore through a side yard back toward the main road.
Small run-down houses gave way to small run-down shops.
Traffic lights flickered in the distance.
The sirens started wailing again. I scanned the closed storefronts around us, searching for a hose bib or a public restroom or a pothole with a deep enough puddle inside it.
A sign for an all-night, self-service car wash came in sight, and I made a run for it, dragging Vero behind me.
We ducked into one of the empty wash bays.
It was brightly lit, and I felt like I was under a spotlight as I hurried to the coin slot, digging in my purse for small bills.
They were all sticky and covered in Cheerio crumbs.
“Hurry up,” Vero said, bouncing on her heels as I blew them off. “Those sirens are close!”
“I’m going as fast as I can!” My hands shook as I fed a wrinkled twenty into the machine.
It spit the bill back out at me, and I frantically smoothed down the edges and jammed it back in.
The menu of wash options lit up on the display.
I selected the highest-pressure option I could find and set it for the maximum amount of time.
Vero hiked up her pant leg and I picked up the hand wand.
She closed her eyes and turned her head to the side, wincing in anticipation, like she was standing in front of a firing squad. I pulled the trigger. She yelped as water blasted from the wand, cutting across her body in a wide, flat stream.
“My foot, Finlay!” Vero said between gasps as the cold water soaked through her jeans. “The monitor is on my foot!”
“I know!” I shouted over the hum of the pump. “This isn’t like shooting a Glock, you know!” I lowered the wand, focusing the bulk of the blast toward her ankles. I held it there, pounding the monitor in water and suds until the timer beeped and the pumps cut off.
My ears rang in the sudden silence. Vero’s clothes and hair dripped on the pavement. Soapy water ran in rivulets down her face and cascaded off the tip of her nose.
“Did it work?” I asked.
“You’d better hope it worked.” She looked like she wanted to murder me. I couldn’t see a light blinking on her ankle monitor, but I was afraid to get close enough to be sure.
My phone buzzed. I hung up the wand and connected the call. “Cam? Can you see her?” I ushered Vero around to the back of the building, out of sight from the road.
“Her signal’s gone completely dark. Where are you?”
“A car wash off Route One.”
Cam guffawed. “No shit, Mrs. D! I would have paid good money to see that.”
“I can hear you, you know,” Vero said through chattering teeth.
“Vero’s freezing, Cam. Her clothes are soaking wet. I need to get her someplace where she can warm up and dry off.”
“You can’t take her home, that’s for sure,” Cam said. “Now that the cops lost her signal, they’ll probably look for her there. Come to Zoey’s,” he suggested. “Vero can borrow some clothes and you can hide out here while we figure something out.”
Nothing about this night was going like we’d planned.
We were supposed to have identified the thief and found the money.
We were supposed to have proved Vero’s innocence.
Instead, we were both on the run. But if we could at least make it back to the sorority house, we might have one last shot at getting the truth out of Ava before the police managed to find us.
“How are we supposed to get there?” I peered around the side of the building, yanking my head back at the first sign of headlights as a car passed. “For all we know, the police could be monitoring our rideshare accounts. Can you and Zoey come get us?”
“I’ll send an Uber to pick you up,” he offered. “If anyone at the party managed to get a look at me, the cops might have a BOLO out for someone matching my description.”
“An asshole in an eggplant?”
I slapped a hand over Vero’s mouth. “Where should we go to meet the car?” I asked him. We couldn’t stay where we were. Not if it was the last place Vero’s GPS had broadcasted a clear signal.
“Walk to the intersection two blocks east of you. There’s a bus stop on the corner and a McDonald’s and a gas station across the street. Go to the gas station first and get me an extra-large Slushy. Because if you get the Quarter Pounders first, they’ll get too cold, and then the cheese gets all—”
“Cameron!” I snapped.
“Okay, fine! Jeez! I scheduled your Uber, and I texted you his name and his plates. He’ll pick you up in twelve minutes from the bus stop. Don’t be late.”