I looked down at my wool jacket over my red sweater, black jeans, and gray snow boots. “Yeah. Why?”
“It’s too conspicuous,” she whispered, her pink hat sliding to the side of her tightly curled white hair.
“Uh-huh,” I said. “Why do you two need a driver?” Not that I minded, but I did want to know what I was dealing with for the morning.
Georgiana nudged Thelma out the door with her extra bulk, her gray hair in a braid. “Thelma can’t drive on ice, and my back has been aching, so I’ve self-medicated with the good stuff from over the border. We figured I shouldn’t drive, but if you think it’s okay, then I can drive.”
“No,” I said hastily, making sure the steps were covered in de-icer before getting out of their way. “I don’t mind driving. How did you find Sharon Smith, anyway?”
Thelma tucked a jumbo electric-pink purse against her chest and maneuvered carefully down the stairs and along the walkway to the car.
Georgiana followed her, carrying a black handbag neatly over her shoulder.
Both bags appeared roomy enough to contain a gun or two.
I sighed and followed them, waiting until we were all seated, belted, and moving through the neighborhood with the heat blasting merrily at us. “All right. Now please tell me what is going on?”
“Head toward Montana,” Georgiana said next to me, staring out the window at all the twinkling lights.
I glanced in the rearview mirror at Thelma, who looked like a wrinkled and shrunken gumshoe from the fifties. “I don’t have all day to go to Montana,” I admitted. “I have a stalker, and I’m trying to stay close to the authorities and town.”
Thelma calmly withdrew a .45 with a shiny and large silver barrel. “Well, why didn’t you say so? Hawk Investigations can handle stalkers, right G?”
Georgiana nodded. “That’s one of our many specialties.”
I bit my lip, not wanting to dissuade or insult them but also not wanting to see them get hurt. Plus, it did seem that they’d found a line on Sharon Smith when none of the authorities had been able to do so. “Okay. So how about you at Hawk Investigations clue me in, considering we seem to be working together right now?” I drove south toward I-90. “Are we really going all the way to Montana?”
Thelma pushed against her seatbelt as much as her wiry body could, leaning forward. “We are. There’s a snowmobile poker run in Montana right now, and rumor has it Sharon Smith will be there. If we hurry up, we should be able to catch her at the 10,000 Silver Dollar Bar for the third stop of the day.”
Georgianna partially turned around. “It’s the 50,000 Silver Dollar Bar now.”
“Don’t care,” Thelma sniffed. “It’ll always be ten-k to me.”
I nodded, having spent plenty of time at the restaurant and bar in Haugen, Montana. It was named so because it had that many silver dollars in it. “I haven’t done a poker run in too long,” I murmured. It was a fun snowmobile ride where riders earned a card at each stop, and whoever had the best hand at the end of the ride won the prize. “That’s at least an hour and a half drive in these conditions, probably more. How sure are you two that there’s a poker ride on a Wednesday and that Sharon will be there?”
Georgiana set her purse on the floor with a loud thunk.
Hopefully she hadn’t loaded her gun.
She looked at me. “It’s the Elk’s Charity Ride for the old folk’s home, and it’s today. Sharon will be there because we have the signup sheet, and her name is on it. Well, one of her names.”
I drove onto the onramp to I-90, headed east. The interstate was nicely plowed, and my tires kicked up de-icer as I sped up. “Do you two know her?”
“No,” Thelma said. “However, my friend Eunice from Silverville does know her, and that’s how we unraveled this mystery.” She squinted through the glasses, catching my eye in the rearview mirror. “Should I get a pipe? I feel like all detectives, the good ones, should have a pipe.”
I switched lanes. “I think the trench coat is enough, to be honest.”
She looked down at her lighter-beige coat. “You’re probably right, although this isn’t very warm. They should make wool detective trench coats.”
“What’s Sharon’s other name?” I asked.
Georgiana seemed to ponder the question for a moment. “We really can’t divulge privileged information, Anna. You understand.”
I sighed. “None of your information is privileged. You’re not a priest, medical provider, or lawyer.”
Thelma reached out and almost patted my shoulder, just waving in the air since she couldn’t reach me. “We took an oath, you know.”
I flipped the windshield wipers to a faster speed. “I did not know that.”
