The Crossroads

A young cop escorted Judy out of Spratling Manor.

“My vehicle’s parked over this way, ma’am.”

“Where are we going?”

“Sheriff Hargrove says you need to calm down. I’m taking you over to headquarters so you can, you know, calm down.”

Calm down? Judy absolutely hated it when people said that to her. And this guy said it twice.

They headed toward the driveway. A dog started barking in the forest.

“That sounds like Zipper!” Judy said. “Maybe he found Zack!”

The officer reached for his walkie-talkie.

“Officer? Officer!” A boy they couldn’t see called out from the trees.

“Yeah?” The young cop moved toward the dark thicket, unsnapped his holster.

“Down here! In the woods! Jiminy Christmas, this galdern dog smells something!”

Zipper barked louder. Judy knew who was hidden in the trees with him. Davy.

“Hurry, Officer!”

The cop turned to Judy. “Mrs. Jennings? Wait right here.”

“Yes, sir.”

The young cop stepped into the underbrush.

Judy gave him a ten-second head start. Waited for his flashlight to disappear behind the dense foliage. Then she took off. She ran across the lawn, found a pebbled path, and followed it downhill to the river and an old, sagging boathouse. She pushed the door open and heard water lapping against the pilings underneath the floorboards.

About two minutes later, she heard Zipper panting.

“Howdy, Mrs. J.,” said Davy from the shadows. “I hope that galdern police officer don’t find himself in too big a pickle. He sure did take off a runnin’ when he heard old Zip, though, didn’t he?”

“What do you mean she ‘slipped away’?” Sheriff Hargrove yelled at his bumbling young deputy.

“Well, sir, I proceeded down through the sticker bushes to pursue and apprehend—”

“She’s trying to escape!” Sharon came running out of the mansion. “Miss Spratling stole my car!”

“When?” asked Sheriff Hargrove.

“I don’t know!”

“Then how do you know she’s the one who stole it?”

“She dropped this!” Sharon held up an antique blue garter—the kind a bride might’ve worn fifty years ago. “It was right where I parked my car!”

Hargrove nodded. “What type of vehicle are we looking for, ma’am?”

“A silver Hyundai.”

“Okay, everybody,” Sheriff Hargrove barked to his troops. “Let’s roll!”

“What about Mrs. Jennings?” asked the young deputy.

“We’ll worry about Judy later. She couldn’t have gone too far because she doesn’t have a car!”

“You sure, Chief?”

“Yes, I’m sure! I drove her over here, didn’t I?”

All the police officers climbed into their vehicles to chase after the one woman they knew was currently driving a car: Miss Gerda Spratling.