Free Driving Team by Bonnie Bryant Page B

Guys, she’s barely civil to us. She’s never been nice at all, and she’s always getting us into trouble. Plus, that dog costs as much as a whole month of sundaes at TD’s.”
    “I know it’s not logical,” Carole admitted. “But these are not logical circumstances.”
    “Right,” agreed Stevie. “Normally we wouldn’t dream of buying Veronica anything, but normally her dog isn’t dying.”
    “Well, I guess I can relate to that,” Lisa said. “Count me in. Why don’t we make it a joint gift from The Saddle Club?”
    “Great idea!” Stevie gently lifted the little dog from the shelf and carefully took it over to the checkout counter.
    They pooled their money and paid for the dog, and, after the clerk had gift-wrapped it in the gift shop’s famous silver wrapping paper, they returned to the throng of shoppers in the mall.
    “Okay,” said Stevie, holding Veronica’s gift tightly under her arm. “Now tell me why you guys are here and not at the library.”
    “We’re looking for women with red pocketbooks over their right shoulders,” said Lisa.
    Stevie frowned. “Huh?”
    “Red pocketbooks,” repeated Carole. “Stevie, you wouldn’t believe this little girl we met at the library.” The three girls sat down on a bench, and Carole and Lisa filled Stevie in on Cynthia. They told her how Cynthia’s mother left her at the library almost every day; how Mrs. Davidson was nice to them but threatened to throw Cynthia out into the cold November rain; and how for the past two days they’d done nothing but read
Misty
to Cynthia and try to keep Mrs. Davidson from finding out.
    “Wow,” said Stevie. “No wonder you’re looking forher mother. How on earth are you going to get your report done for Max if you don’t find her?”
    “I don’t know,” said Lisa. “And I’m beginning to get really nervous about it. We don’t have a lot of time left.”
    “Well then, let’s split up and look for her. Three heads are always better than two,” Stevie said, glancing around the mall. “Let’s meet over by that security desk in half an hour. Surely among the three of us we can find her.”
    Carole smiled. “That sounds like a good idea to me.”
    They split up. Stevie took the two large department stores at either end of the mall; Lisa took the smaller stores on one side of the mall, and Carole the stores on the other side. A half hour later they met near the security desk.
    “Any luck?” said Carole, out of breath.
    “No.” Lisa shook her head. “Everybody I saw was either too young or too old. How about you?”
    “I saw one woman the right age, but she had another little child with her. Unless Cynthia’s got a mystery twin, it wasn’t her.”
    Both girls turned to Stevie. “Well?”
    “I saw one woman who thought I wanted to kidnap her child, another one thought I was trying to shoplift a toaster, and another woman almost banged me on the head with her big red purse because she thought I wastrying to steal it.” Stevie sighed. “There are some pretty weird women with red purses running around this mall!”
    Carole laughed at Stevie’s efforts, but she was still concerned about the little girl. “I don’t know what to do now,” she said sadly.
    For a moment all three girls just sat there, staring at the flashing red light above the security station. Then Stevie snapped her fingers. “I know!” she said.
    “What?” said Lisa and Carole.
    “One of us can go up to the security desk here and tell the guard that her name is Cynthia and she’s lost her mother. The security guard will announce it over the public-address system!”
    “Won’t they ask for a last name?” said Lisa. “That’s one thing we don’t know about Cynthia.”
    “Say it’s too hard to pronounce,” Stevie replied. “Have them say, ‘Would a woman carrying a large red pocketbook please report to the security station? Your daughter Cynthia is lost.’ ”
    “Wait,” said Carole. “Cynthia might already be