If Catfish Had Nine Lives(106)
“Why would Orly want to talk to Gram?” I said as I put down the phone. Jerome was in the backseat and Jake was double-checking that his seat belt was secure.
“Didn’t it seem like Orly kind of liked Miz?” Jake asked.
“Well, maybe, but his timing bothers me,” I said. “We’re going back out there.”
“And, apparently, we’re going to break all speed records to get there,” Jake said.
I handed my phone to Jake. “Here, hit the button for Cliff. Please.”
Jake did as I asked and I took the phone back. Cliff’s voice mail picked up again after only one ring.
“Hey, meet me at the convention campsite if you get this before nine or so. Thanks.” I hung up.
“The campsite is well populated, Betts. Miz will be fine,” Jake said.
“I guess I’m overreacting a little bit, but something’s not right.”
“Maybe,” Jake said. “What could go wrong, though? Miz will be careful; extra careful after your call. There are lots of people around all the time.”
“If there are always so many people around, how did Teddy get beaten up without any witnesses?” I said.
“Good point.” Jake pulled out his own phone and pressed a couple buttons. “Hi, Jenny, it’s Jake Swanson. Yes, I’m fine. I’m just wondering if there’s a quick way to get a hold of Jim, or maybe Cliff Sebastian. Sure. Yes, actually, if you could just ask one of them to call me, that would be perfect. Thank you. Uh-huh. Thanks again. ’Bye.”
“Was that Jenny, the dispatcher?”
“Yes.”
“You know her?” I said.
“Everyone knows her.”
“I mean, you’ve seen her in person?”
“I’ve had coffee with her. She’s a sweet lady.”
“She’s a terrible police dispatcher. And I don’t even know what she looks like,” I said. I’d never met her, but I’d come to know her through her dispatch position. Recently, she’d failed more than once to get a message I’d called in to the police in a timely manner. Gram disagreed with my poor opinion of her. Apparently, so did Jake.
“How is that—”
“Isabelle!” Jerome said from the backseat.
I stepped hard on the brake pedal. The Nova did stop, but first its tires squealed and slid. Fortunately, all wheels stayed on the road, though before we came to a safe halt, the car was at a ninety-degree angle from where it should have been.
“What happened?” Jake said.
“In the road. Joe and his horse are in the road. I’m sorry, Jake. I couldn’t have hurt them, but I was so surprised. I forgot they were ghosts.”
“We almost joined them,” Jake said.
“Sorry. You okay?”
“Fine.”
“I’m going to go see what he wants. I’ll be right back,” I said.
I got out of the car with shaky legs and a too-rapid pulse.
“There might have been a better way to let me know you wanted to talk to me, a better way to reappear. Just showing up in the middle of the road isn’t the best idea.”