And, of course, their plan for how they were going to get out of here without being caught.
I sprinted across the street, ignoring Dahlberg’s shout and the blare of a horn from the startled driver of a minivan.Deputy Bobby looked over at the sound.Everybodylooked over.I found myself thinking a few of those words you can’t say at craft fairs.
“I know I said I’d buy you ice cream,” Deputy Bobby said as I reached him, “but if you get yourself run over first—”
“Old ladies,” I gasped.“Shoplifting.Escaping.Craft fair!”
(I was out of breath.Sue me.I’d almost been hit by a minivan, andnobodyis supposed to run for more than five seconds at a time.)
Deputy Bobby squinted at me.“What’s going on?Are you okay?”
I nodded, gulping air.
And then, I saw the big, brown van coming out of the craft fair lot.I recognized the woman behind the wheel as Joan, the one who had started this whole mess by stealing my ice cream cone.
“That’s them!”I stabbed a finger at the van as it started its ponderous turn across the intersection.“Stop them!”
“What are you—”
“Bobby, stop that van!”
If you’ve never seen a real-life superhero, let me introduce you to Deputy Bobby Mai.I watched as he made a snap decision.And then, without missing a beat, he sprinted into traffic, raised his hand, and shouted, “Stop!”
And you’d better believe Joan stopped.
Everybody stopped, even Deputy Dahlberg.
I was leaning against Two Girls and a Scoop, trying to catch my breath, when Chaleena stuck her head out to see what was going on.
“Perfect timing,” I said, still sucking in air.“About my cone earlier.”
5
“And they put you where?”Deputy Bobby asked.He was too kind to laugh, but his whole face shone with amusement.
We were sitting on a bench, looking out at the beach, enjoying our ice cream cones.(Chaleena had given them to usgratissince we were now, officially, heroes.My choice of words.) The sun hung over the ocean, and the water shone like rumpled foil.
“You know where they put me,” I said.“I’m not saying it again just so you can—can get your jollies.”
The thing about Deputy Bobby is that his real smile, the best one, is this huge, goofy grin that looks totally out of place on his normally serious face.I caught a glimpse of it before he bent over his ice cream cone.(Suspicious timing, in my opinion.)
“In my defense,” I said, “they were holding me at gunpoint.”
“Glue gunpoint.”
(Yes, fine—it had been a glue gun from the craft fair.)
But I said, “What was that?”
Deputy Bobby cleared his throat, and it was several moments before he seemed able to speak.Finally he said, “And this was after the old ladies beat you up and took your wallet?”
“Okay, you know what?I don’t have to put up with this kind of abuse.I’m ahero.”
But when I tried to get to my feet, Deputy Bobby caught my arm, laughing.
And maybe I’m an idiot, but it was kind of nice, the way he pulled me back down onto the bench.
When his laughter had faded, Deputy Bobby considered me over the ice cream cone.He had a nice mouth: a full lower lip and sparkly white teeth.Big surprise—Deputy Bobby had a niceeverything.
