The Big Smith Snatch by Jane Louise Curry

Author:Jane Louise Curry [Curry, Jane Louise]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: KMWillis
Published: 2015-06-03T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

“IN A PIG’S EYE WE ARE!” Auntie exploded.

Boo blinked. The explosion startled her be­cause Auntie hadn’t been rude all day. For a change. But Boo’s mind was made up.

“We are so,” she answered firmly. “I sure won’t go fidget away the rest of the afternoon sitting on Mrs. Maldonado’s front steps chewing my fingernails. Not when Poppy and Cisco and the babies are maybe shut up in a dungeon somewhere.”

Auntie snorted. “Dungeon, my foot.”

“Well, a basement, then. They could be.”

Auntie shifted uneasily in her seat. “Yeah, well, but. . . You don’t want to get in the cops’ way. If they’ve been out there, they’ve already found all the clues. They know all about that stuff.”

“But they don’t know Cisco,” Boo objected. “So they probably wouldn’t even see a Cisco clue. He’s always watching all those detective shows and old movies on TV, like Sherlock Holmes, and the Chinese guy with the funny hat. So I bet he’ll be leaving clues all over the place.”

Auntie wasn’t convinced, but she reached over to take the map book from Boo. “What makes you think that Cisco would know those folks were up to something fishy? To hear that Miz Koopman—okay, Cooper­man—tell it, the pair of them were slick as a silver whistle.” She peered at page forty-three. “Where’s this place you want to go, anyhow?”

Boo reached over to point.

“Clear out there? That’s no good. That’s Hancock Park. It’s so snooty out there they’d call the cops as soon as they saw a beat-up old heap like this come steaming down the street.”

“Don’t be silly,” Boo said. “They can’t arrest you for having an old car.”

“Maybe not,” Auntie admitted grudgingly. “But they sure can hassle you. It’s like what some of your old neighbors say about my wagon. ‘It brings down the tone of the neigh­bor­hood.’ So they call the cops. If the cops come, maybe they’re nice enough, but they say ‘Better move along, granny. We don’t want any trouble.’ “

While she grumbled, Auntie started Elvira up and made her way out through the parking lot. To Boo’s relief, Auntie turned back down Mission Road the way they had come, heading for downtown.

“Don’t get your hopes up,” the old woman said grumpily. “We’re only going as far as the camp­ground so I can park my stuff with that Fred Allison. Then we’ve got to head for Hobart Street. This tub hasn’t got enough gas left in it to get out to that Chiltern Place place and back.”

“That’s okay,” Boo said quickly. “I’ve got—I’ve got fifteen dollars in my purse. Is that enough for gas?”

Auntie gave her a sharp look. “Sure. Ten oughta be enough.” At the next stoplight she said, “Tell you what. You give me what’s left over, for a hamburger and fries and bus fare back down to the campground, and you’ve got a deal.”

“Deal,” Boo agreed. “And if you want to, you can leave your stuff locked up in Elvira until Daddy gets here.”

The police were gone from

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