Small Town Taxi by Harriet Rogers

Author:Harriet Rogers
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: comedy, humor, amateur sleuth, taxi, mystery cozy, comedy action, femaie sleuth
Publisher: Harriet Rogers

Chapter Eleven

Belle glanced over at me with a Don’t go there expression.

I ignored her. “What happened to your grandson?” I asked.

A look of hatred flashed across her face that made me glad I wasn’t in the human trafficking business. I would guess the Puppet Master was in that business but maybe not anymore. I hadn’t heard from Jon whether they had identified the body-less head.

“He was taken, but I will find him. And then, the one who took him? He will suffer greatly.” She was sitting up ramrod straight now and she hit the floor of the cab several times with her cane.

“Umm. Do you know who took him? I mean are we about to be caught in some kind of cross-fire? ’Cause if we are, I’m gonna need to make a stop at the ammo store. I’m fresh outta bullets.” Belle glanced back at the killer granny.

“Take me first to a hotel, please. Then you may make your trip to wherever you need to go.” She held her black over-sized purse on her lap. She began rummaging in the cavernous interior and finally pulled out a smart phone. “I try to Google an old friend. She maybe is in Massachusetts.” She held the phone out in front of her and spoke at it.

“Ah, okay.” She tapped Belle on the shoulder. “I do not need the hotel. I will go to my friend’s house.” She rattled off an address in Northampton.

“Does your friend know you’re coming?” asked Belle. “I sort of know that address and I’m not sure she’s expecting any visitors right now.”

“How do you know this friend?” I asked.

“We do the college together. I was with her when the President of Mexico carry her down the mountain.”

“Hunh,” I said, wondering if Lucille remembered this woman as well as Sophia remembered Lucille. I decided to check with Mona to see if Lucille had snagged a ride back to her house or if anyone knew where she was.

“Where are you? I’ve got some rides stacking up if you want them. Mostly short haul, mostly non-tippers, nobody who will eat the backseat. You headed this way?”

“We need to locate Lucille so we can deliver this customer.” I explained the situation as briefly as possible to Mona.

“Well, Lucille got a ride with Betsy to the social services offices. I assume she’s talking to the child protecting people, whoever that is. The address is on King Street. You know it?”

“Yup,” said Belle and we motored off in that direction.

“Let me know when you’re back on the available for rides list,” said Mona with some sarcasm.

“I pay my way, I got money,” said Sophia from the back seat. She rapped her cane on the back of my headrest for emphasis. I thought about yanking the cane out of her hands, but she might really be a friend of Lucille’s, so I controlled the urge.

We pulled up in front of a plain beige brick building that couldn’t have been anything except a government issue design, shabby but intimidating, a square box with no adornment.

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