Free Escape Route (Murder Off-Screen Book 1) by GA VanDruff

Ed will make Dianne a widow, and she’s having twins.”
    “Great Scott! The fool’s fathering more of that gene pool?”
    “Be nice, Uncle Frank. I’ll be there in twenty-five minutes.”

CHAPTER 16
     
     
    Make that thirty-five.
    My phone rang, and Gertie said, “Oh, hi, Shirley. How are you?”
    “Gertie, you called me. It’s Jaqie. Everything okay?”
    “I promised you that recipe. I’ll let these boys talk, and go into the kitchen.” She turned away from the phone. “Excuse me, deputy. You just go ahead with your conversation.”
    The sound of voices faded as Gertie moved from where “the boys” were conversing—presumably the sitting room off the living room. Costello would be in the red-leather, wingback chair by the bookcases, since it was the sturdiest piece in the room, not counting the raised, stone hearth. Deputy Beatty would take the commanding position immediately in front of the fireplace. Avery would pace. Men with elbow patches, pace.
    The back door screeched as Gertie stepped out to the porch. “I told them it was on vibrate.”
    “How’s it going?”
    “Beatty’s beyond ecstatic that there is real investigating to do. He’s worn out one inhaler, already. Says the wheezing is because of stacking mulch bags at the Depot, but I think it’s because he’s overexcited to find this stolen car. He’s put out a BOLO.”
    Gertie is a fan of police procedural TV shows.
    “As in—Be On the Look Out for?”
    “Exactly. It’s time to ditch the car.”
    “How long ago did this get put in motion?”
    “Fifteen minutes. Now I’ve got to go. The boys may stay another night if they don’t find it, so I have linens to change. Hide that vehicle, and don’t forget to wipe the fingerprints.”
    “Thanks, G—”
    I jumped in the driver’s seat. Beatty was occupied now, but it was a real possibility I’d pass him on the road in twenty minutes. He’d probably haul Avery and Costello around in the back of the squad car to backtrack exactly where they’d been. They’d have to cooperate so their story wouldn’t seem fishy. There was no evidence at this spot, so no worries.
    Of course, now there was evidence someone had been here. The tire prints. My foot prints, but the ground was marshy. They’d get no real help from those, and the tidal ooze would eventually erase my size sevens.

CHAPTER 17
     
     
    My mind was a blank. The road stretched without a break for miles. Between You Are Here and The Coppers Are There, the route dwindled with no blinding flashes of inspiration of where to hide the car.
    In plain sight would not work because of the Pennsylvania plates. What kind of a state does not have front plates? That’s two sore thumbs for this vehicle—the blank space on the front bumper, and the obvious not Maryland plate on the rear. The entire stretch of road from the Mercer neck of the peninsula into town had two-foot deep gullies on either side of the blacktop. No pulling off into the woods.
    “What would Jeep do?”
    Vignettes flooded my imagination. First order of business, he’d stroll into a bar and order up a margarita. He’d stroll into a bar, order the margarita, and stroll out with Vanessa. Lacey. Ashleigh. He’d stroll into a bar ... you get the idea.
    “How would he hide a stolen car when there’s nowhere ...”
    “Abandoned building.”
    Whoa! I slammed on the brakes.
    Now, I know there’s no one in the backseat, but Jeep’s voice could not have been any clearer, and the goose bumps parading up my arm agreed with me.
    I sneaked a peek in the rearview—fast—in case he was in the backseat. Jeep McBain was capable of anything. The only eyeballs looking back were mine, wider than usual, but mine—blue and bloodshot—but mine.
    “It’s okay,” I explained to me, stepping on the gas pedal gently. “So I had a great idea, and the voice in my head sounded like Jeep is in the car with me.” That was okay, too, because I’d had him on the brain for over a year, and