‘Two seconds flat. A true master criminal,’ Tommy murmured to himself as he went to the car and opened the other door.
‘Scootie is willing to share the passenger seat.’
‘He’s a sweetheart,’ Tommy said.
After the dog leaped out into the rain, Tommy climbed into the low-slung car. He resisted the temptation to close the door before the mutt could re-enter.
Scootie sat with his rump in Tommy’s lap, his hind legs on the seat, and his forepaws on the dashboard.
‘Put your arms around him,’ Del said as she switched on the headlights.
‘What?’
‘So he doesn’t go through the windshield if we stop suddenly.’
‘I thought you weren’t going to destroy the car?’ ‘You never know when you might have to stop suddenly.’
Tommy put his arms around the Labrador. ‘Where are we going?’
‘Mom’s house,’ Del said.
‘How far is that?’
‘Fifteen minutes tops. Maybe ten in this baby.’ Scootie turned his head, made eye contact, licked Tommy from chin to forehead, and then faced for-ward again.
‘It’s going to be a long drive,’ Tommy said.
‘He’s decided he likes you.’
‘I’m flattered.’
‘You should be. He doesn’t lick just anyone.’ Scootie chuffed as if to confirm that statement. As Del pulled the Ferrari away from the curb and into the street, she said, ‘We’ll leave this crate at Mom’s place, and she can have it brought back here. We’ll borrow one of her cars for the rest of the night.’
‘You’ve got an understanding mother.’
‘She’s a peach.’
‘How’d you get the car started so quickly?’ he asked.
‘The keys were in it.’
With the big dog in his lap, Tommy couldn’t see much of the street ahead of them, but he certainly could see the ignition, in which no key was inserted.
‘Where are they now?’ he asked.
‘Where are what?’
‘The keys?’
‘What keys?’
‘The ones you started the car with.’
‘I hot-wired it,’ she said, grinning.
‘It started while you were pulling your door shut.’
‘I can hot-wire one-handed.’
‘In two seconds flat?’
‘Cool, huh?’
She turned left onto a divided street that led to Marine Avenue, the island’s main drag.
‘We’re so soaked, we’re ruining the upholstery,’ he worried.
‘I’ll send the owner a cheque.’
‘I’m serious. This is expensive upholstery.’
‘I’m serious too. I’ll send him a cheque. You’re such a nice man, Tommy. Such a straight arrow. I like that about you.’
Emergency beacons flashing, a police car turned the corner ahead and passed them, no doubt heading toward the burning boat.
‘What do you think it cost?’ Tommy asked.
‘A thousand bucks ought to cover it.’
‘For an entire yacht?’
‘I thought you meant the upholstery damage. The Bluewater cost about seven hundred and fifty thou-sand.’
‘Those poor people.’
‘What people?’
‘The poor people whose boat you trashed. Are you going to write them a check too?’
‘Don’t have to. It’s my boat.’
He gaped at her. Since encountering Deliverance Payne, staring agape had become his most-used expression.
As she stopped at the Marine Avenue intersection, she smiled at him and said, ‘Only owned it since July.’
He managed to re-hinge his jaw to ask, ‘If it’s your boat, why wasn’t it docked at your house?’
‘It’s so big it blocks my view. So I rent that slip where it was tied up.’
Scootie thumped one paw repeatedly against the dash-board, as though expressing his impatience to get moving.
Tommy said, ‘So you blew up your own boat.’ Turning left on Marine Avenue, which was the commercial centre of the island, Del said, ‘Didn’t blow it up. You have a tendency to exaggeration, Tommy. I hope your detective novels aren’t full of hyperbole.’
‘Okay, you set it on fire.’
‘Big difference, I think. Blow up, set on fire – there’s a big difference.’
‘At this rate, even your inheritance won’t last long.’
‘Oh, you’re such a goof, Tommy. I don’t set yachts on fire every day, you know.’
‘I wonder.’
‘Besides, I’ll never have money worries.’
‘You’re a counterfeiter too?’
‘No, silly. Daddy taught me to play poker, and I’m even better than he was.’
‘Do you cheat?’
‘Never! Cards are sacred.’
‘I’m glad to hear you think something’s sacred.’