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“What are you doing here?” Trixie snapped.
“Nothing,” Gertrude said.
“Really? ’Cause everyone is telling me that I’ve got some weird old lady stalking me.”
Gertrude gasped. “I’m not old!”
“Look, lady, can you just leave me alone?”
“I’m trying to protect you!” Gertrude cried.
“Protect me? From what?”
“From the mayor!”
Trixie closed her mouth and stared at Gertrude for several long seconds. Then she stepped back inside and closed the door behind her. And Gertrude continued to Calvin’s car.
When she climbed in, he said, “Well?”
“Well nothing. Trixie is an ungrateful brat, and I have to pee.”
“Didn’t they have a restroom in there?”
“Yes, but the bouncers threw me out.”
Calvin looked at her, his eyebrows raised. “Seriously?”
“Yep. Literally. Threw. Me. Out.”
“Huh. Well then. I’m actually impressed. So, now what?”
“Now we wait for Trixie to come out, and then we follow her.”
Calvin groaned. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”
“It’s the only way, Calvin. And you know it.”
“Fine. You think she’ll come out the front or the back?”
“No idea,” Gertrude admitted.
“Well, should we split up? You watch the front and I’ll watch the back?” Calvin suggested.
“Why do I have to watch the front?”
“Because this is your idea!” Calvin cried.
“Fine,” Gertrude said. “Call me on the walkie if you see her.” Gertrude climbed back out of car and slammed the door. She retrieved her walker from the back seat and then slammed that door too. Then she made her way back down the dark alley and around to the front. She crossed the street, which was quiet this late at night, and crouched behind a mailbox on the opposite sidewalk. It wasn’t an ideal hiding place, but she was in a shadow cast by the streetlight, and she hoped Trixie wasn’t very observant.
Sure enough, Trixie came out the front door, looked both ways, and then, deciding she wasn’t being watched, headed down the street.
“Calvin!” Gertrude whispered into the radio.
“Yeah?”
“She just came out. She’s on foot. Come pick me up, but be stealthy about it.”
Calvin didn’t respond, but Gertrude could still sense his disgust. Still, within thirty seconds, Calvin eased his Cadillac out of the dark alley, and Gertrude stepped out of her hiding place. His headlights still off, he pulled the car alongside the curb. She hurried around the front of the car and, after hastily shoving her walker into the back seat, she climbed in.
“OK,” Gertrude whispered, pointing down the street. “She went that way.”
“I don’t think you have to whisper.”
“OK, follow her,” Gertrude said. “But go slow.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Calvin said, obviously irritated by being bossed around.
“Don’t call me ma’am,” Gertrude said, oblivious of his irritation.
“Is that her?” he asked.
Gertrude gasped. “Yes! That’s her! Slow down!”
“I can’t go any slower Gertrude, or I won’t be moving at all.”
“Well, then stop the car.”
Calvin pulled over to the side of the street. “Sure, this isn’t suspicious at all.”
“Oh stop it. There’s no one around. Besides, we’re not breaking any laws.”
Calvin tapped the steering wheel with his fingertips, waiting all of thirty seconds before asking, “OK, can we go now?”
“Just hold your britches.”
Calvin sighed.
Gertrude waited until Trixie was just out of sight and then said, “OK, easy now.”
Calvin pulled the car back out into the street and drove in the direction Trixie had walked. They caught sight of her just in time to see her turn right down a side street. Calvin groaned.
“Where on earth is she going?” Gertrude wondered aloud.
“I think I know, and I don’t want any part of it.”
“What? Where is she going?”
“This is Frank’s street.”
“Frank the cop?”
“Yep.”
“The house where Frank the cop lives with his wife?” Gertrude asked.
“Yep.”
“OK, well, let’s go down it. It’s not a dead end, is it?”
He pulled the car over. “No, it’s not, but Gertrude, I just don’t want to do this anymore. If she’s going to a cop’s house, she’s obviously going to be safe.”
“Unless the cop’s the murderer.”
“I thought you said the mayor was the murderer.”
“Well, we don’t really know that yet, do we?”
“OK, well, I know that Frank is no murderer, so I’m going home. If you want to get out, do it here.”
“Seriously? You’re going to abandon me in the middle of town in the middle of the night?”
“Well, I’d rather not. I’d rather you just go home like a normal person, and I would be happy to give you a ride. But if you’re going to insist on following this stripper around, yes, I’m going to leave you here.”
“Fine,” Gertrude said in a huff. She climbed out of the car and slammed the door. Then she opened the back door, made a big show of wrestling her walker out of the back, and then slammed that door too. And then, without so much as a glance, she walked away from Calvin and his car. Then she had a realization. She turned around and headed back toward the car.
He rolled down the window. “Not sure of the address,” he said, “but it’s before the street turns, big green house on the right.”
“Thank you,” she said, and then tried to hold her chin high as she stomped off indignantly. She heard Calvin pull the car away from the curb, and was overcome with the sudden realization that she was alone. All alone. In the dark. On a strange street. With nothing but a walker, a walkie talkie, and a jitterbug she wasn’t quite sure how to make a call with. Well, if I get into trouble, I’ll just call Calvin with the walkie talkie. He might come back if I was in danger. Gertrude took a deep breath and headed down the street.
It took her a while to reach the green house, and she was huffing and puffing by the end of her walk. When she finally reached her destination, there was a cop car parked in the drive. So this is the right place. And he’s probably home. But Trixie was nowhere in sight. Gertrude spotted a nearby bush that was just about her size, so she walked over to it, with every intention of crouching behind it. Then she decided that was far too much work, so she plopped right down on her fundament. There. That’s better! She relaxed for a second and then she peered around the bush at the house.
And she saw absolutely nothing of interest. It was a house, for sure, a green one. Its porch light was on, and it cast a weak light over the porch and most of the front yard. She stared at it, trying to see something, anything of interest. But there was nothing. Fine. I’ll just sit here, she decided. If someone is getting murdered, I’ll be sure to hear it. She began to relax, and then she saw a light come on in the upstairs room. A second later, two figures appeared. One was definitely a female. She decided that was Trixie. And one was probably a male. The cop? It must be. She couldn’t stand not knowing. She decided to creep closer. The front porch’s light did not reach the side of the house where this upstairs window was located, so she was able to walk to the house under the cover of utter darkness.
When she reached the house, she realized there was latticework covering most of the wall, and that latticework was covered with the red leaves of autumn vines. What a stroke of luck, she thought. She surveyed the wall. Then she slipped her shiny new phone into her pocket, just in case there was anything through the window worth photographing.
She took a deep breath and reached up with her left hand to slip her short fingers through holes in the latticework. Once she had a good grip, she slipped off her left loafer and poked around the bottom of the latticework with her foot, until she found a foothold. Then, she very gingerly pulled up with her left hand and pushed up with her left foot until her weight was supported completely by the wall and her body was fully suspended a full six inches off the ground. Well, I’ll be darned-tootin’—it held! She took another deep breath and then, pushing up with her left foot, she reached as high as she could with her right arm and quickly stove her stubby fingers into the vine, trying like mad to hang on to the spot where her hand had landed. She was able to. Then, scared to death of falling, she swung her right foot around in an absolute panic, trying to find purchase. Finally, she did, and then she clung to the latticework with all four limbs, trying to catch her breath. After about two minutes of rest, she gathered the courage and strength necessary to reach upward again with her left hand—and in this way, Gertrude managed to slowly climb up the wall toward the second-story window. After about fifteen minutes of climbing, Gertrude was about three feet off the ground when her right foot slipped. She cried out, sounding a lot like a wounded duck, and flailed her foot around trying to find another place to stick it, but it was no use. Slowly, both her hands began to slip from their grip, and then she was falling. She screamed like an exceptionally loud rabbit caught in a trap and then thud, Gertrude landed in the grass, her limbs all akimbo, her breath knocked completely out of her.
In seconds she heard footsteps approaching and absurdly thought it was Calvin coming to rescue her. But then she realized she was staring up at the barrel of a gun.