Once Upon a Toad (21 page)

No.

How about that other guy?

I glanced over at the customer on the other side of the room. He seemed engrossed in his newspaper.

I don't think so.

No more talking,
Olivia wrote, underlining the words sternly.

Like I don't know that,
I scribbled back, underlining mine just as sternly.

Shut up,
she wrote.

You shut up!

“You're not eating,” said Pearl, materializing by our table. She put her hands on her hips. “What's the matter, don't you like our cooking here at Pie-in-the-Sky? Best breakfast-and-lunch spot on the I-5 corridor, bar none.”

Olivia picked up her cheeseburger and took a bite. I stuffed a handful of french fries in my mouth. We both smiled at her.

Pearl nodded. “That's more like it.”

Croak.

She cocked her head. “What was that?” she asked suspiciously.

I shrugged, feigning innocence.

Croak.

“There it is again,” she repeated sternly. “It's coming from under the table.”

Olivia reached for the notebook.
My
little brother has a pet frog in his backpack. Sorry.

I hung my head, trying to look sheepish.

Pearl sighed. “What is it about boys and frogs?” she said, shaking her head. “I had me a couple of little boys, back in the day. They're grown men now, but when they were young, they were just like your brother here. They loved critters—snakes, frogs, even a baby squirrel once—I was forever finding things stashed in their rooms.” She patted my head. “Well, I guess it can't harm anything, as long as it stays put and Frank doesn't find out. Better not let the bus driver catch you with it, though. He won't like a frog aboard, no sirree.”

She left and went over to check on the other customer.

Olivia and I ate in silence for a while. Then Olivia picked up the pen again.
That man is staring at us.

Who, Frank?

Duh. The other customer.

This time I was the one to kick her.

Quit it!
she scribbled.
I'm serious! He's watching us.

It was probably her imagination, but I sneaked a peek anyway. It wasn't her imagination. He was definitely staring at us. So was the headline on the front page of his newspaper:
NO LEADS YET ON DIAMOND GIRL AND HER SISTER!

My heart sank. I didn't realize they got the Portland paper down here in Grants Pass! I grabbed the pencil and paper from her.
We need to get out of here, NOW!

Olivia nodded and started to pull on her jacket. Before we could get up from the table, though, the man on the other side of the diner stood up, threw some money down by his empty plate, and strode out the door.

Olivia and I exchanged a glance. Now what?

I slipped Connor's cell phone out of my pocket and sent A.J. a text, telling him what had just happened.

Might be your imagination,
he texted back.
Advise staying put until the last minute, then making a run for the bus.

Olivia took her jacket back off and we sat there warily, sipping our milk shakes. I expected to hear sirens any minute.

“Quitting time, Frank!” called Pearl a few minutes later. “You go on home to that new grandbaby of yours, and I'll finish up here.”

The owner of Pie-in-the-Sky emerged from the kitchen, murmured a few instructions as he said good-bye to Pearl, then left. Once he was gone, Pearl turned the sign on the door to
CLOSED,
crossed
the room to where Olivia and I were sitting, and threw the newspaper and its screaming headline down on the table in front of us.

She folded her arms across her bright pink uniform. “Now I think it's time you two girls told me what's going on.”

CHAPTER 20

If anyone had ever told me I'd find myself holding hands with my stepsister someday, I'd have said they were crazy.

But that was before I met the Red Rocket.

Pearl patted its dashboard. “That's my girl,” she said. “Don't you let anybody tell you you're over the hill. You keep this up and we'll be at Redwood National Park by dinnertime.”

Pearl had been talking to her car ever since we hightailed it out of Grants Pass half an hour ago. She treated it like some kind of pet.

“Not every day you get to ride in a classic Ford Thunderbird convertible, is it, girls?” she said, glancing over the back of her seat to where Olivia and I were sitting, clutching each other for dear life. Pearl drove fast.
Really
fast.

Getting out of town had been an adventure. We'd just finished telling Pearl everything—well, everything except the fact that Great-Aunt Abyssinia was actually my fairy godmother—when
a police cruiser pulled into the parking lot.

“Uh-oh,” Pearl had said, “looks like we've got company.” She drummed her flamingo pink fingernails briefly on the tabletop. “Tell you what, girls. I don't know why I believe your wild tale, but for some reason I do, and my radar's never let me down yet. You have to get up pretty dang early in the morning to pull the wool over Pearl Slocum's eyes, yes sirree.” She crossed to the counter and rummaged briefly in her purse. “Here's what I want you to do,” she said, passing a key to Olivia. “I'm going to distract Officer Norris with a piece of cherry pie—that's his favorite—while you two slip out the back door and hide in the Red Rocket.”

We must have looked at her blankly, because she added, “My car. You can't miss it. Get in the backseat and cover up. You'll find a blanket there. I'll be out as soon as I can.”

We did as she asked, and a few minutes later she slid in behind the wheel. “You were right,” she murmured. “That customer who was in earlier went and blabbed to the police.”

So much for my disguise. I should have saved myself the trouble of cutting my hair.

Pearl put the key in the ignition and switched on the engine, then leaned over the seat and adjusted our blanket. “It took two pieces of pie and a lot of smooth talk to convince Officer Norris that the fellow was just another greedy fool trying to make a quick buck,” she told us. “I swore on my grandmother's knitting basket that you were a boy, Cat.”

I grimaced. “Thanks, I think.”

Olivia squealed as the inevitable toad popped out. It was trapped under the blanket with us.

Pearl lifted a corner of the fabric. “Hush,” she told my stepsister, scooping the toad up and tossing it out the window into the bushes. She eyed us thoughtfully. “I hope I know what I'm getting myself into here. There's quite a hefty reward being offered for you two, you know.”

We must have looked scared, because she quickly gave us a reassuring smile. “Don't you worry, though. My lips are sealed. Just make sure yours are too. No more toads until we're out of town!”

The blanket went down again and she revved the engine, then backed out of her parking spot. As we began to pull forward, I felt myself start to breathe a little easier.

Then the car rumbled to a halt.

“Say, Pearl,” said a deep male voice. Officer Norris? I tensed, hoping he wouldn't look in the backseat and spot the two girl-shaped lumps under the blanket.

“Yes, Charlie?”

“I just wanted to thank you again for the pie.”

“Anytime,” Pearl replied sweetly.

The Red Rocket rolled forward again, and we drove sedately out of town. Once we reached the freeway, Pearl twitched the blanket away.

“You can sit up now,” she told us, glancing in the rearview mirror. “Buckle up, please, we're on a deadline here!”

I'd barely shoved my seat belt into the slot before she floored it. That was half an hour ago, and since then we'd been barreling down the Redwood Highway, a twisty road that snaked through the forests and mountains of southern Oregon toward the California border. I had a cast-iron stomach, but even I was feeling a little queasy, and as much as
I missed him, I was really, really glad that Geoffrey wasn't along for the ride.

“Yep,” said Pearl proudly, patting the dashboard again, “1966 was a very good year.”

We flew around another corner, and Olivia's fingernails dug into my hand. I craned to see the speedometer. We were going seventy, but on this winding road it felt more like ninety. Probably because at the same time that she'd told us to buckle up, Pearl had pressed a button on the dashboard and the Red Rocket's roof had retracted and disappeared into the trunk.

“No point wasting good sunshine,” she'd said. “Besides, I want you girls to have the full convertible experience.”

Thanks to the “full convertible experience,” Olivia had lost her Mariners cap somewhere back around mile marker twelve. Her curly blond hair flew out behind her like a flag until Pearl spotted it in the rearview mirror. She reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a scarf identical to the one holding her own bleached-blond updo in place. Not that there was any chance of it escaping, what with all that hair spray.

Pearl handed the scarf to Olivia and motioned to her to put it on, which my stepsister did reluctantly. She shot me a look, daring me to say anything.

“Life doesn't get any better than this, does it, ladies?” Pearl hollered, her words whipped away by the wind.

“Actually, it does,” Olivia whispered to me through clenched teeth.

I looked over at her, startled. My stepsister had a sense of humor! “No kidding,” I whispered back.

The poor toad didn't stand a chance. The wind swept it overboard practically before I'd finished speaking.

The sun was sinking lower in the sky, and as the car sped through the shadows of the towering fir trees that lined the highway, Olivia and I wrapped ourselves in the blanket and huddled closer together. Pearl finally took pity on us.

“Just wanted to give you a taste of real freedom on the road,” she said, pulling over and raising the Red Rocket's roof again. As it snapped into place, she turned around to face us, her forehead puckered under the scarf. “Now, tell me again about this great-aunt of yours. How exactly is she going to help fix this mess you're in?”

Olivia and I exchanged a glance.

“Um … ,” I began.

“Lean out the window when you talk, dear,” Pearl told me. “I'm not partial to toads. No offense or anything.”

I stuck my head out the window as the Red Rocket pulled off the shoulder and back onto the highway. “My great-aunt is kind of eccentric, but she's really smart,” I replied, hoping that would satisfy Pearl's curiosity. “She's faced this kind of thing before.”

Pearl's eyebrows did their disappearing act. “Really? Does this, uh, condition run in your family?”

“Not exactly,” I said, watching the toads bounce onto the grass by the side of the road as we picked up speed.

“I should think not.” She made the sucking noise with her teeth again, then shrugged. “Oh well. Probably best we find her anyway, her being family and all.”

As I sat back in my seat, Pearl popped a cassette tape into the slot on the dash. She grinned at us in the rearview mirror. “Perfect
song for our getaway, don't you think?” she shouted as the opening notes of the Beach Boys' “Fun, Fun, Fun” came blasting over the speakers. Pearl joined in gustily at the refrain: “‘And she'll have fun, fun, fun 'til her daddy takes the T-Bird aw-a-a-a-y.'”

Olivia looked over at me and shook her head in disbelief.

I slid Connor's cell phone out of my pocket.
Coming up on Cave Junction,
I texted to A.J. I'd been keeping him posted on our progress ever since we left Grants Pass.

ETA one hour,
he texted back.
GAA still at Jedediah Smith Campground, campsite 50.

I showed the phone to Olivia, who relayed the message to Pearl. Pearl didn't mind flowers and gems inside her T-Bird. Just no toads. I guess I couldn't blame her.