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Dottie sat in her car over on Cary Street and stared at the traffic. She felt bored and useless, two feelings she didn’t like at all. She’d just bought a new gourmet French coffee press from the kitchen store and had taken herself out for coffee and pastry at a nearby sandwich shop.
She stopped by Margaret’s house after she’d left Mic’s house, and her best friend was still inconsolable as the family prepared for the news conference that would beg the public for information about Allison’s disappearance. Margaret looked horrible, tired, fatigued, with gray-colored skin and dark circles under her eyes. Dottie had suggested she skip the interview, but Margaret had refused. Dottie shook her head. She should never go on Channel 12 news looking like that. Margaret looked as though she had aged twenty years overnight. Beau was beside himself with fear and angst, and for the first time ever, Dottie had almost liked him in his current state of humility. Humility was an uncommon response for Beau Massie, one of the wealthiest movers and shakers in the Old Dominion.
Dottie considered the events surrounding Allison’s disappearance and made a quick decision. Mic would probably kill her, but what the hell; you gotta do what you gotta do.
Dottie inched her mammoth vehicle out of the parking space on Cary Street and immediately rammed her wheels into a mound of snow left by a snowplow. She hit drive, and the wheels ground deeper into the snow, and then shot forward as her car jolted out onto Cary Street to a litany of honking horns and irate drivers. Dorothy flipped one of them off but fortunately, most drivers were more respectful of the road conditions than Dottie. After all, Cary Street was a main thoroughfare and one of Dottie’s favorite shopping areas.
Dottie’s heart jumped into her throat as she ran into another pile of snow left by the snowplows. The streets were so small with the banks of snow on either side, and she had a hard time steering her car and staying on her own side. For a moment, she considered that maybe she really should have stayed home and not driven in the snow. But that was what old people did and even though she was eighty-two, she really wasn’t old. She stayed in shape, exercised, and pretty much had the same Olympic swimmer figure as she had sixty years ago. Besides, she’d needed that French coffee press. Now she was on a mission to rescue Allison.
As she pulled slowly in front of Dr. Smirkowitz’s office on the corner of Lombardy and Monument, she spied Mic’s Land Cruiser and the unmarked police vehicle in the parking lot in the back. There were only four other cars there, and she knew Mic would recognize her car and fuss at her. Dorothy decided to park across the street and wait for Mic to leave. She looked at her watch. It was three thirty. She doubted they’d be much longer. She figured Dr. Dude would be furious after they left, and she knew just where to hide in his office and eavesdrop. Yes, she told herself this was what she needed to be doing. Her heart was beating with more excitement than she’d felt in five years. I’m going out in a blaze, one way or the other.