Free Bike Week Blues by Mary Clay

rubbed off on her, that your troubles with
Zack have made her cautious? Don’t prejudge the relationship before
you get more details. This could be a match made in heaven.”
    “He could be her soul mate,” Ruthie said,
emerging from the hall with the smoldering wand. “Get his birthday
and I’ll do an astrological comparison. That’ll tell us if he’s the
one.”
    I wiped my eyes. Yes, we’d check this out.
He might be the one, and he might not. I grabbed the phone and held
it up for Ruthie to smudge before I dialed. Ann answered. “Before I
agree to come, where and when, including the time, was Patrick
born?”
    “Ruthie’s with you, right?” Ann asked
flatly. “Is Penny Sue there, too?”
    “Yes. We’re going to check him out.”
    “Does Ruthie do this to her daughter?”
    To? “Do you do this for Jo
Ruth?” I asked Ruthie who was running water over the straw in the
kitchen sink.
    “Of course,” she said over her shoulder.
    “Of course.”
    “Okay, if it’ll make y’all feel better, I’ll
find out.”
    “It will,” I said, feeling relieved
already.
    My reprieve didn’t last long. Literally, the
moment I hung up the phone, someone knocked on the front door. I
looked at the clock, eight.
    “What is this, Grand Central Station?” Penny
Sue said, smoothing her hair and hitching her robe tighter. “Who in
the world would drop in unannounced at this hour? Honestly, what’s
become of common courtesy?”
    I keyed the alarm code into the panel as
Penny Sue stomped to the front door and peered through the
peephole. “Damn, it’s Woody and another guy, probably a
detective.”
    “The smoke,” I exclaimed, thinking how it
smelled like marijuana.
    Ruthie caught my meaning and ran to the
bathroom for air freshener. She only got out a few squirts before
another knock, this one louder.
    “Don’t answer it,” I hissed.
    “I have to—they’ve got my car.”
    Terrific. Why did it have to be Woody? The
one person who wanted, more than anything, to get even with Penny
Sue for dumping him back in college. The little weasel who’d given
us a fit in October.
    Another knock. Crap, the smudging hadn’t
worked. Maybe we should have used more sage.

    * * *

Chapter 7

    Penny Sue surveyed the parking lot
through the screen door. “Good morning, Woody. I was hoping you
were here to return my car. I’d invite you in, but at as you can
see,” she did a Vanna White/Wheel of Fortune hand sweep, “we’re not
prepared to accept visitors.”
    Woody flashed a smarmy grin. The detective
standing in the background was visibly sniffing the air.
    “Sorry to intrude. We tried to call, but
your line was busy.” Woody inhaled deeply and glanced back at his
sidekick. “We’d like to take your fingerprints and ask a few
questions. It’s important. How about we wait in the car while you
get dressed?” He slipped his card through the edge of the screen
door. “Call my cell phone when you’re ready.”
    “It could be a long wait,” she said under
her breath, closing the door.
    “What do you think that’s about?” Ruthie
asked anxiously. “Your car was shot, what could Woody possibly want
from us?”
    “He’s a jerk who intends to badger me
whenever possible. Come on, let’s get a cup of coffee. I’ll be
darned if I’m rushing to meet with Woody and his lackey.”
    “I don’t think it’s smart to toy with him.
He can make things very difficult,” I reminded her.
    “Woody wouldn’t dare.” Penny Sue did a hair
toss. “I’m the injured party here. We’ve done nothing wrong, and I
refuse to be intimidated.”
    “That’s not a wise move. I think you could
be accused of obstructing justice or something.” I’d learned that
much from my years with Zack. “Let’s throw some clothes on and get
it over with.”
    Penny Sue gave me her aristocratic
expression. “I will as soon as I have my coffee.”
    She finally called Woody at quarter after
nine, declaring that the proper time to accept visitors. Of