Suddenly, the car let out a long, eardrum-rattling honk, followed by more engine revving. To Sabrina, it seemed as if the car were an animal, waiting for the right time to pounce on them. She recalled hearing stories about hitchhikers being killed by lunatics. Hitchhiking didn't seem like such a great idea anymore. She grabbed her sister's hand and pulled her off the road. As if in response, the car revved its engines again.
"Run!" Sabrina cried. Surprised, Daphne stumbled along beside her but did what she was told. The two of them raced back the way they had come, hand in hand. Elvis followed closely behind, turning his big head to bark out the occasional angry warning at the menacing car, but it had little effect on whomever was behind the wheel. The squeal of tires on asphalt told Sabrina that they were now being chased. The car honked again, sending a shocking jolt through her bones, and then suddenly it veered to the other side of the road. It sped up and passed the girls, then spun around, leaving black stains on the asphalt and the smell of burning rubber in Sabrina's nose. It was a police car, now stretched across the road, blocking the girls' escape.
The door opened and a short, stout, pear-shaped man stepped out. He wore a beige police uniform with shiny black boots, a billy club at his utility belt, and a wide-brimmed hat that fastened under his three chins. His face was puffy and pink with a nose that angled slightly upward, so that a person could see up his nostrils. On his shirt was a shiny, tin star that read FERRYPORT LANDING SPECIAL FORCES and a name tag underneath it that said SHERIFF HAMSTEAD.
"Girls, why are you running?" the sheriff asked in an unusually high-pitched voice that sent shivers into Sabrina's belly.
"We thought you were trying to kill us," Daphne said angrily. Sabrina flashed her a look, letting her know that she would do the talking.
"I see. Well, I'm sorry if I gave you two a start, but it's not safe for little girls like yourselves to be walking out here in the dark. These roads can be treacherous," the sheriff said.
"Treacherous?" Daphne asked.
"Dangerous," Sabrina explained.
"I got a call that you were out here, so I came looking," the portly man continued as he hoisted his sinking pants up around his waist. "Why don't you two hop into the squad car and I'll take you home?" He pointed to Elvis. "I don't know if we can put your horse in there, but we'll try."
"He's not a horse," Daphne said. Then, realizing the sheriff was joking, she added, "You can't tease him. He's very sensitive."
Hamstead leaned down and scratched Elvis under the chin. "Oh, I'm sure he is, aren't you, Elvis?"
The big dog growled and snapped at the sheriff's hand. Hamstead pulled it away just in time, but then rubbed it with his other hand as if the dog had gotten a lucky bite.
"How do you know Elvis?" Sabrina said suspiciously.
"Oh, Elvis and I have met before. You must be Relda Grimm's grandchildren. I heard you were in town," the man said. "I'm the local sheriff, Ernest Hamstead."
"I'm Daphne," the little girl offered.
"Sabrina," Sabrina muttered.
"So, do you two need a ride home or are you trying to raise a million dollars for the March of Dimes?"
Sabrina nodded and Hamstead opened the squad car's backdoor. Elvis clumsily climbed in and the sheriff shut the door behind him. Sabrina and Daphne walked around the car and got in on the passenger's side of the front seat.
Sheriff Hamstead squeezed and shifted his way into the car, breathing heavily as if carrying a great burden. He had left the keys in the ignition (Sabrina guessed so that he wouldn't have to fish them out of his tight pants), so as soon as he was settled, he started up the squad car and headed in the direction of Granny's house.
"So, I assume you two have already concocted some elaborate scheme to get your granny and her friend back?" Hamstead asked. The girls looked at each other, unsure of what to say.
"So you know about this?" Sabrina asked, dumbfounded.
"Yep," Sheriff Hamstead said. "Hard to miss a two-hundred-foot giant carrying grandmas away into the night, don't you think? I don't want you two girls to worry. Your granny is a tough cracker. I've seen her in bigger jams than this one and besides, she's got the entire Ferryport Landing Special Forces Squad working on the case. I know you two have been trained for this kind of thing, but we like to take care of our own problems here in Ferryport Landing."
Daphne cupped her hand around Sabrina's ear. "Have we been trained?" she whispered.
"I don't know what he's talking about," Sabrina whispered back.
"Are you an Everafter?" the little girl said, returning her attention to the sheriff.
The sheriff looked over and winked a yes at Daphne. She squealed in delight. "Which one?"
Suddenly, the squad car's CB radio crackled to life. "Hamstead? Sheriff Hamstead?" a man's voice fumed. It sounded oddly familiar to Sabrina.
The sheriff seemed nervous. When he tried to pick up the handset, it fumbled in his sweaty hand before he finally got ahold of it.