Julia 02 - Miss Julia Takes Over by Ross Ann B

Author:Ross, Ann B [Ross, Ann B]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780142000892
Google: 7NA6CGBEzIMC
Amazon: 0142000892
Goodreads: 668554
Publisher: Penguin
Published: 2001-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

By the time we got back to the car, Mr. Pickens was just finishing with his telephone call, but did he tell us what he’d learned? No, he did not. But I’d brought him the biggest Big Mac on the menu, thinking he’d be in a better mood if he had something on his stomach.

He unwrapped the thing with a nod of thanks, which was certainly insufficient, and set his coffee in the cupholder. Then he cranked the car, backed out and steered us out on the highway, all with one hand.

“Where’re we going now?” I ventured to ask.

“I told you. We’re going to Jerry’s.”

“You just talked to him, didn’t you? Going to see him’ll just delay us that much longer. It’s Hazel Marie we need to be looking for, I don’t care how much sympathy you have for your friend.”

“Give me some credit here,” Mr. Pickens said, wadding up his hamburger wrapping like he wanted to do the same to somebody. “Jerry knows Bigelow, knows where he lives, knows where he hangs out, knows what we need to know. That’s why we’re going to see him. I hope that meets with your approval.”

I studied on that for a minute, wondering why Mr. Pickens had such a prickly temperament. Poor upbringing, probably. All I was trying to do was keep his mind where it was supposed to be. As I looked out the window at the darkening streets, the car lights and street lights coming on, it seemed to me that his mind was working out what to do with the passengers he hadn’t wanted along in the first place. I wouldn’t’ve put it past him to be planning to dump us off for the night while he went off on his own. And if that’s what he was thinking, he was going to have another think coming because I didn’t plan to let him out of my sight.

“Maybe Jerry Johnson can help us, Miss Julia,” Little Lloyd said. “He’s real famous and knows a lot of people.” Then turning to Mr. Pickens, he asked, “Do you think he’d let me see his racing truck?”

“You bet, sport,” Mr. Pickens answered. “You can see his shop, meet his team, sit in the truck, whatever you want.”

Huh, I thought, sounds like Mr. Pickens is planning to stay awhile. Which meant we’d be staying, too.

“If you’re not going to look for Hazel Marie tonight, Mr. Pickens, I’d as soon stay at a Holiday Inn.”

He ignored me.

“I can’t wait.” Little Lloyd bounced in his seat, as the two of them continued to discuss a matter foreign to me. “He won at Homestead-Miami last year. I saw it on ESPN. Did you see that, Mr. Pickens? Did you see it when he made contact with the wall and spun out? He came out of it and poured on the power, fishtailed around the turn and took the lead again.”

“Yeah, and he’s right on up there this year.”

“How many points does he have so far?”

“Beats me.

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