Then Jennifer and I would drive south. The more miles I put between myself and Alice Ann, the better. I could imagine the girl talking to the police, rattling off a description of the Cadillac, along with the tag number. In no time flat, I would be caught and dragged back to Crystal Falls. But I had to risk it.
Turning back onto the interstate, I peeked into the mirror. Alice Ann was staring out the window, humming âThis Old Man,â making every other word rhyme with kidnapped. I hated to steal a license tag, but it looked as if I had no choice. A tag could be switched in the parking lot of any Howard Johnsonâs. Although I couldnât leave the old one behind. That would make things too easy for the police. I could use a fingernail file to unscrew it. Now I was even starting to think like a criminal. And I didnât want this sort of life for Jennifer. My baby was supposed to grow up with girl friends and slumber parties, her own princess telephone in the bedroom. She would not only speak French, she would tour France, all the places I had only imagined. As the child of a kidnapper/murderess (not that I was either one), my daughter would be destined for a double-wide trailerâor, God forbid, a foster home.
I pressed my foot against the gas pedal, wishing the McDonaldâs sign wasnât so far away. From the backseat, Alice Ann said, âUh-oh. A copâs on your tail.â
I glanced over my shoulder, and sure enough, a blue light was filling up the rear window. Jennifer held out one hand, tried to grab it.
âSee what happens when you go over the speed limit?â Alice Ann said. âThatâs against the law.â
âYeah? Well, itâs a good thing. Iâll just hand you over to the cop.â I tapped the brake, steering into the gravel breakdown lane. Cars whizzed past the Cadillac, their taillights blinking red.
Alice Ann began to sing âThis Old Manâ again, making up the lyrics. âYou donât have a tit-le. You will go-o straight to jail, where thieves and con men will pinch your tailââ
âWill you hush?â I cried. âDonât you say another word. Donât even open your mouth.â
Alice Ann spread her lips apart with her fingers and opened her mouth as wide as she could.
In the side mirror, I watched the officer approach. He was tall and lanky, with a beaked nose. As he leaned over, peering into the car, heat lightning flashed behind him. The sky lit up with muddy clouds, then faded to black. A speeding ticket would prove that Iâd been on this interstate. It would list the make and license number of the Cadillac.
âYou were going sixty-two in a fifty-mile zone,â he said, glancing at Jennifer, then back at Alice Ann. âThatâs not real wise, considering your cargo.â
âWell, weâre starving. I was just trying to make it to McDonaldâs.â I laughed theatrically and rolled my eyes.
He reached up, tipped back his hat, and squinted down the interstate, toward the crooked row of neon signs. It looked as if a drunken farmer had planted them. Shoneyâs, Arbyâs, Best Western, McDonaldâs, Holiday Inn.
âWeâve just been driving forever,â I said, and Alice Ann kicked the back of my seat.
âWhere you good people headed?â He spoke with a deep baritone. I imagined him quizzing his daughter, if he had a teenage daughter, asking the girl why sheâd missed her curfew. I tried to think of a nearby town, but this part of the country was foreign to me.
âWeâre justâ¦â I paused. Behind the officer I saw a green sign, Hazlehurst 33 miles. âWeâre going to Hazlehurst,â I said a beat too fast. I wondered if heâd seen my eyes shift behind him.
He had. From his car, the police radio crackled. âYou got folks down in Copiah County?â he asked, shuffling one foot in the gravel.
I nodded, but I didnât think this
B. A. Wolfe
Jim Marrs
Kelly Hunter
Michael Knox Beran
Madeleine St John
Alan Burt Akers
Stevie MacFarlane
Debbie Viguié
Mary Burchell
Piers Anthony