The Marsh Madness

“I’ve been reading too much Marsh, I guess. I’m paying close attention to everyone’s hands, including yours.”


Lance rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Here on the main road, there’s lots of traffic, but if we stay on their tail, they’re going to notice us. Would Shelby recognize this car?”

“I didn’t even know about this Beamer until a couple of hours ago. It’s a good thing we didn’t take the Saab. She’d have recognized that, for sure.”

“Do you think Dekker will follow up on your information about the plate?”

“I do. But I don’t think he’ll tell me what he finds.”

“We’ll have to find out on our own, then,” Lance said. The Beamer surged faster into the night.

I rubbed my feet and wrote off my hose. There’s usually a first aid kit in any car my uncles own, and this one was no different. While Lance focused on the road, I slipped out of the shredded stockings.

He said, “Normally, that would have been sexy.”

I used a sterile gauze to get the grit out of my feet and winced when I applied rubbing alcohol. I finished off with bandages and hoped for the best.

As our pursuit continued, I filled Lance in on what happened at the gallery.

“Oh snap,” he said, when I told him about pursuing Shelby and the alarm being set off. “Poppy will be out of her mind. Did you see how much they sank into that reception? Caviar? Grey Goose?”

“Yes.” It would have been enough to get a good start on a return to grad school, I thought. But I had other things on my mind. Catching up with Shelby, for one.

We managed to get closer to the Lexus and followed as it swerved and shot around corner after corner. I hung on as Lance took the corner on two wheels. I bit my tongue so I didn’t say, “Next time, I’m driving.” Too late, we realized that the Lexus driver had pulled over to the right and turned off his lights. We shot past. I turned, pointed and squawked. Lance slammed on the brakes, and I gave thanks for my safety belt. Through the window, I spotted Lisa/Shelby’s white face and wide eyes. She saw me too. Her hand shot to her mouth.

As we pulled up alongside, the SUV lurched forward, swerved to make a U-turn and sped off in the opposite direction. Lance accelerated and made a tight turn, but those few lost seconds were too many. The taillights of the SUV had vanished. This time for real.

Fifteen tense minutes later, we had to admit defeat.

Lance finally exhaled. “Whoever he is, he’s coolheaded. There’s nothing we can do now.”

That stopped me. “Yes, there is. We can find out where she lives.”

“Shelby?”

“Who else. We can drive by there and—”

“She lives in LA now, working on her film career. We’d have to find out where her parents live. And we won’t be welcome back at the gallery. I have a feeling that Poppy won’t be glad to see me again. Ever.”

I thought about that. “Actually, Lance, you’d already left the reception when I confronted Shelby. She saw me, not you. Then she panicked and ran out the emergency exit and set off the alarms. Don’t look at me like that.”

“Jordan! You told me you shouted at Shelby and you chased her out the door.”

“Okay, fine. So I can’t go back. But you could go and apologize for me.”

“Not the first time.”

“Very funny. You could say you need to contact Shelby and say how sorry you are that your psychotic date chased her.”

“Sure. I’ll make up a story about you.”

“I’m sure you’ll make it a doozy. I’m counting on it.

“At least with that wig, no one will know who you really are.”

“That is one good thing. Drop me off somewhere, so I don’t get spotted. I don’t really want to spend twenty minutes on the floor of the car. Make sure you get an address for Shelby. Don’t get too caught up in the apology thing.”

“Give me some credit,” Lance sniffed.