“I’m going to alley-oop you into the next yard,” Diesel said.
“No!”
Too late. I was over the fence. Diesel came next. Same deal. No way out.
“This is ridiculous,” Diesel said.
He opened the back door to the house and the alarm went off. We raced through, found the front door, and walked out of the house.
“That was easy,” he said.
Diesel took the 1A all the way into Salem and drove to the bakery. I’d called to check on Clara and found she was at her sister’s house for the night. Glo was off on a date with the bellringer, and no one knew if Deirdre Early was still in the parking lot.
“What are we going to do if she’s still there?” I asked Diesel.
“We’re going to ignore her, break into the bakery, and get something to eat. I’m starving.”
He turned the corner, his headlights flashed on the lot, and the lot appeared to be empty, with the exception of a grot
esque, twisted, large black piece of metal.
“What is that?” I asked.
“I think it’s your car,” Diesel said.
“It can’t possibly be my car.”
Diesel parked, we got out, and looked at the charred mess.
“I’m pretty sure it’s your car,” Diesel said. “I can see part of the license plate.”
“I loved that car!”
“No you didn’t,” Diesel said. “It was one step away from scrap metal.”
“Yes, but now I have no scrap metal.”
“Let’s think about what we have here,” Diesel said. “Someone torched your car and Early’s town house. Probably the same person. Possibly Early, although I don’t know why she’d burn down her own house.”
“Because she’s insane?”
“Yeah, that could be one possibility.”
“And then we also have a missing Early. Which could be that either the spell didn’t stick or else someone stole her.”
“I’m going with the spell didn’t stick. I can’t imagine anyone wanting Deirdre Early.”
“Bottom line is I have no idea what the hell’s going on,” Diesel said. “Are we raiding the bakery or do you have something better to eat at your house?”
“I doubt there’s anything left here. We mostly do doughnuts and cookies on Sunday, and Clara isn’t opening for business tomorrow.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Cat was waiting for us when we walked into the house. I scratched him behind his ear and apologized for leaving him alone all day. I think he might have rolled his eyes at me, but it’s hard to tell, since he only has one that works. I gave him a can of cat food and pulled stuff out of the refrigerator for a frittata.
I’d had a chance to look at the plaque on the way home. There were some markings on the back that looked like hieroglyphics and random letters. I could feel a little heat and a mild vibration, but nothing to make my hair curl.
Diesel was in the living room with the plaque and my computer, and I could hear the television droning in the background. Undoubtedly some sort of sporting event.