Read Online Dotty’s Suitcase by Constance C. Greene - Free Book Online Page A

She felt as if she were sparkling. Next to her, Jud stirred.
    The snow was falling fast now, coating the roadway, making it slick.
    â€œWe’re in for a big one,” Gary said. His foot pressed down on the accelerator and the truck gained speed.
    â€œDon’t you think you ought to slow down?” Dotty asked. Up ahead she could see a car approaching. It seemed to be swimming at them through the snow. The wind picked up handfuls of snow and flung it at them as if they were having a snow fight. It was beautiful and exciting and scary. Gary leaned over the wheel, his face in the headlights of the oncoming car bright with the thrill of battle.
    â€œMove over!” he shouted. The driver of the other car didn’t seem to hear. As Gary grunted and wrestled to stay in control, the car swerved into their path, forcing the truck over to the right and into the woods at the side of the highway. A deep ditch separated the woods from the road. With a great shudder, the truck settled into the ditch as if it would never leave. And the car that had swerved into their path went merrily away from them, scattering snow in its wake into the black night, intent on arriving at its destination on time.

CHAPTER 12
    Dotty rested her head against the suitcase as if it were a feather pillow. And the suitcase, one of its sides caved in, rested itself against the truck’s dashboard. Through the gap in the cardboard Dotty saw the brilliant green-and-white new money, arranged neatly in stacks, each bound by a strip of brown paper. The sight was blinding. She tried to push the broken sides of the suitcase together and failed.
    Gary lay back in his seat, his eyes closed, a tiny trickle of blood running from his nose, which was small and pointy and might once have appealed to her. Funny she hadn’t noticed his nose before. It looked to her sharp enough to poke a hole through a piece of paper. His chest moved up and down, so he wasn’t dead. His cheekbones lay so close to the skin they looked as if they might break through at any moment.
    The headlights of the truck shone as if nothing had happened. They cut a lazy path through the falling snow, which coated the windshield and enveloped the truck in a thick, heavy curtain.
    Beside her, Jud jiggled. Oh, Lordy. Only Jud would have to go to the bathroom at a time like this.
    â€œCan’t you hold it?” she whispered.
    He rolled his eyes at her and motioned toward Gary. When Dotty turned, Gary’s eyes were wide open. He was looking at the money and smiling.
    â€œWell, I declare!” he said in a high voice. He put out his hand and slid it inside the suitcase, where it stayed as if caught in a trap. He touched the money gently.
    â€œI never,” he said softly. “I figured you for a little something,” he said to Dotty, “but never nothing like this. I guess this is my lucky day, eh?” He stretched his face into a ghastly smile, and she wondered how she could have ever thought he looked like Gary Cooper. The adventure was turning sour.
    â€œI found it,” she said, against her will. Jud jabbed at her. “We did,” she said. “Jud and me. Somebody threw it out of a car and we picked it up.”
    â€œHow come nothing like that never happened to me?” Gary asked. “Never found so much as a nickel on the sidewalk even. Never had two bills to rub together. Never. Been working since I was younger’n you too. Hey,” he said softly, “my dad’ll go crazy when he sees folding money. Plumb crazy. Been wanting to help him out. Now I can,” he said, grinning at her, becoming lively. “Guess I’ll have to charge you for a couple tickets to Boonville. One way. Wouldn’t want to cheat you none.” He smiled, and she turned away.
    â€œTravel’s not cheap,” he went on. “One ticket for you”—he thrust out his thumb but didn’t touch her—“and one for the little