Hate’s a strong word and one that is appropriate here. Rather than agree with him, I go with, “I did not, Travis. We didn’t see eye-to-eye, but I’m––” I’m what? Sorry? No. We’ve already established that’s not the emotion going through my mind.
“You know what? Come to think of it…” He’s stopped crying, and now he sounds angry. He’s going through the steps quickly. “Where wereyouat 10 PM, Prudence?”
Wow, he said my entire name. He never does that. “Me?” I squeak. “You thinkIdid it?”
“A witness said they think they saw a small silver car speed by.Yourcar is small.”
“It’s dark blue, Travis.” He should know. He picked it out. All his cars are that color. They’ve always been blue. “I wouldn’t hurt Celeste.”With a car. “I was in the emergency room here in Oakbrook until almost midnight.” Am I truly giving him my alibi? The jerk doesn’t deserve it, but I tell him, nonetheless. I mean that. For one, I don’t care enough about her to kill her, and for another, that’s not in my DNA.
Laura, on the other hand… but she’s got an SUV, so it couldn’t be her.
Except she said she’d steal a car then dump it into a lake…
She wouldn’t.
Would she?
“Is Poochie…?”
“He’s upset. He misses his mo-mo-mommy.” He starts bawling again, which is my cue to hang up.
While I don’t like Poochie, I’m glad he didn’t get whacked right along with Celeste.
As soon as he calms down, I say as nicely as I can, “I’m very sorry, Travis. Let me know if I can do anything.” Not that I’ll do it, but it’s the thought that counts, am I right? “You should be with Barbie. She’s probably very upset.” Or not. Who knows how she got along with Celeste? They seemed as thick as thieves when they were in the shop.
“She’s fine. She’s stronger than she looks.”
She’d have to be.
* * *
“Where were you last night?”I don’t even give Laura a chance for our usual morning salutations. This is serious stuff.
“Well, good morning to you too.” She frowns at me.
“Don’t good morning me, missy.” I’ve got my hands on my hips. My lunch box is dangling from my right wrist, my purse on the other. “Where were you?”
“Here.” She shoves a little gift bag at me. “For your information, I went all the way to Iowa City to get that for you.” She shakes the sack.
“Iowa City?” I sigh. “Not Des Moines?”
“No. Iowa City was the closest. Then I met up with a friend.” She clears her throat. By friend, she means a man.
“You didn’t drive to Des Moines, steal a car, and run Celeste Coleman over with it, then drive it into a river and swim to safety?”
Her face is priceless. Her mouth is open wide enough for me to see the back of her throat. “What…the fuck…are you talking about?”
“Someone ran Celeste over with their car.”
“Shut. The. Front. Door.” Laura jumps up and slaps my arm.
“Ouch. Stop doing that.”
“Is she maimed? Tell me she’s maimed.”
“No.” I shake my head.
“Of course, not. People like her––devil people––she probably bounced right off the bumper and walked home.” Laura looks very disappointed.
