I grabbed Darby, she grabbed Fluffy, and we rushed out the front door. We hid behind a huge black Caddy SUV parked on the street and waited for our escapee. Sure enough, Jo charged out of the backyard without a backwards glance in our direction, wearing dark sunglasses and a leather vest over her t-shirt.
Game on, sister.
The three of us followed up the busy street, weaving around people when needed, sometimes hiding behind them, not wanting to give away our presence. It may not be prime tourist season, but people flocked to Laguna year round.
Jo bobbed around a young couple walking their Great Dane. She glanced over her shoulder. I tried to hide behind the tree, but it was too late, she’d spotted us. Crapola.
Jo picked up speed and was now almost running. I wish I knew where she was running to.
“She did it. She killed Mona.” Darby sounded out of breath. From the realization we knew who killed her mother or from the spontaneous cardio exercise, I couldn’t tell. I was concentrating on not letting Jo out my sight as we got closer to PCH.
Once Jo reached the corner she cut left. I couldn’t see her. Suddenly, there was an ear-piercing scream mixed with the blare of a bus horn.
“No, no, no.” I yelled.
I hauled it around the corner trying to catch up to Jo, leaving Darby and Fluffy behind.
A small crowd had gathered in front of the bus, people pulling out their cell phones.
The bus doors swung open, and a short frantic man scurried into the crowd.
“She ran into the street,” his panicked voice rang in the air. “I couldn’t stop. You saw it, right? Someone tell me you saw her run out in front of me.” He yelled at the crowd gathered around the bus. He was the bus driver, Denny, according to his plastic name badge.
He charged up to a young kid standing on his skateboard and grabbed a handful of his shirt. “You saw it happen. She ran out in front of me.”
The kid pushed him away. “Dude, you ran over the pet psychic.”
Denny suddenly collapsed in a heap onto the sidewalk.
Ambulance and police sirens screeched toward us. Unfortunately, I think Denny would be the only one benefiting from the ambulance headed our way.
“Why would she dart in front of a bus?” someone in the crowd asked.
“I think someone pushed her,” a shaky female voice commented behind me.
“Check out that tattoo. Do you think she got it locally?” someone else said, clearly impressed with Lassie (may she rest in peace).
The kid on his skateboard prodded Denny with his foot. “Is he dead, too?”
My stomach was in knots. I looked over at Darby. “Are you okay?”
She nodded, but I could tell she wasn’t. She looked like she was about to puke.
My stomach clenched. How in the world was I going to explain this to Grey? The first police car roared up to the crowd and parked in a way to block traffic. What a mess.
Seeing the cop car added a whole new level of anxiety. I chewed my lip. “Lord, I sure hope Malone doesn’t show up. Even I can’t talk my way out of this one.”