“Why would he do that?”
“Just playing devil’s advocate. What do you really know about him?”
“He’s a county sheriff.”
“But we don’t know where his true loyalties lie.”
“You getting paranoid on me?”
“With Babbage Town and Camp Peary right across the river I’d say you’re totally screwed up if you’re not paranoid.”
Sean nodded. “All we can do is keep chipping away. See if Alicia comes up with anything. Run down the German angle. I don’t see another alternative right now.”
“And maybe it still comes down to us going over that fence,” she said.
After Michelle left Sean pulled out a piece of paper with a phone number on it. He punched in the numbers, and after the beep said, “Valerie, it’s Sean Carter. Can I see you?”
As Michelle was walking back to the cottage, she saw something up ahead that made her flat-out sprint.
“What the hell are you doing?” she screamed.
Viggie stopped and stared at her, the wide smile on her face melting away as she let go of the trash bag she was holding and it fell to the ground.
Michelle looked inside her truck. It was spick-and-span clean. She turned to the girl. “How dare you mess with my things? This is my truck. Who gave you permission to go inside my truck and touch my things? Who!”
Viggie fell back a step. “I… uh. You told me you could never get it clean, no matter how hard you tried. I thought you’d be happy.”
Michelle grabbed the trash bag and started pul
ling things out and tossing them back in the truck. She screamed, “This is not trash. Get the hell away from my truck!”
Viggie turned and ran sobbing back to the house. Michelle didn’t seem to notice. She was busy picking things out of the trash bag and layering her floorboards with them.
“Catch you at a bad time?”
She whirled around to see Horatio staring at her and Michelle inwardly groaned.
“Just a misunderstanding,” she said quickly.
“No, I think your meaning was crystal-clear.”
“Get the hell off my back!”
“So do we just leave Viggie in the house crying her guts out, or what?”
Michelle glanced toward the house; Viggie’s wails could be easily heard. Michelle slumped back against the truck and the tennis shoe and banana peel she was holding slipped to the ground. A tear trickled down her face. She sat down on the running board of her truck and stared at the grass.
“I’m sorry,” Michelle said in a low voice. “But she was messing with my stuff. She had no right to do that.”
Horatio came over to stand by the truck. “Well, in a sense you’re absolutely right. People shouldn’t mess with other people’s stuff, but I think Viggie was just trying to help you, or at least she thought she was. You can see that, can’t you?”
Michelle nodded her head curtly.
“Have you thought any more about the hypnosis?”
“I told you, if we come back alive—”
He cut her off. “Right, but let’s skip the histrionics, because I’m not sure you have all that much time left.”