Shattered (Book Four)

Chapter 6: High Speed Chase

As much as I wanted to intervene the fight, I didn't want people to look at us strangely. With darkness in her eyes, Paige looked like she was ready to kill her.

"Paige Harmony Clayton!" Ms. Clayton hissed. "You must never speak to me that way!" "Honesty is the best policy," Paige snorted. "That's what you always say."  I wrapped my hand around her arm and restrained her from saying more words.

Realizing this, Paige calmed down. "Nevermind," she grumbled under her breath. She resumed eating her meal while Ms. Clayton stared at her. After the awkward dinner, we paid for our meals then followed Ms. Clayton's car to the mall.

But as soon as we got out, a loud alarm turned on. The noise came from an antique store just a couple of inches away from the mall. Bursting through the glass doors was a mysterious man carrying a seemingly old treasure chest.

Dragon tattoos stained on his muscular arms. He wore a black leather jacket, tank top, jeans, and boots. A menacingly huge gun was shoved in his waistband with its shiny handle sticking out. Reaching into my bag, I pulled out my phone and began taking pictures of him.

I snapped photos of the young man's tattoos, his gun, and the huge hole on the window. Pieces of thick glass left behind him as he placed the chest on the back of his slick black Ferrari and drove away. Putting my phone away, I had to blink my eyes twice just to make sure that I wasn't dreaming.

The black car drove quickly across three stoplights, alerting two police cars that were surrounding the scene of a car accident. Mom grew very silent until she looked into my eyes. "Cleo," she said softly. "Stay with Paige and her mother."

I looked at her as if she was crazy. "What are you going to do?" I asked. "I am going to help the police," Mom replied softly. My eyes softened when she said those words. "Can I help?" I asked. "Maybe I could tag along." "Cleo," she insisted. "You are going to stay with Paige."

But that was when Ms. Clayton intervened. "Aren't you suppose to be an accountant?" she asked. "Why are you-" "Can you watch over Cleo until I get back?" She gave Mom a hard stare before answering. "I don't understand," Paige began. "What's going on?"

Instead of answering questions, Mom gave us nervous smile then raced into the car. Paige hurried over to my mother's window, asking her what the heck is going on. Unfortunately, Mom continues to dodge her questions.

"We'll continue the Girl's Night Out another time." she promised quickly. "I am very sorry."  The girls darted their eyes at me then at Mom. Their faces were confused and hurt. With a wave, Mom started the ignition then joined in the car chase. She maneuvered her car around obstacles as if she was Vin Diesel.

After Mom's car disappeared, Paige and her mother kept asking me what was going on with her. "I wish I knew," I shrugged, but my eyes were still hoping for Mom to return. In order to get our minds off of the robbery, Ms. Clayton suggested that we should go inside and pick something nice to wear.

"We could pick out some cute dresses for you, Bunny." Ms. Clayton teased. Paige cringed at that word: it was her nine-year-old nickname Paige's father had given her. "What do you think?" she asked. But Paige was too busy gazing at the empty, completely stressing out over Mom. Ms. Clayton tried to coerce her over, but Paige ignored her.

After a few tries, I told Paige to go to the mall without me. "What?" she shrieked. "Didn't your mom told you to stay put-" "Yes," I interrupted. "But I don't know if she is going to make it out or not." Golden curls flounced against her neck as Paige shook her head. "This is crazy," she hissed. "You do know that's dangerous, right?"

I pulled my woolen cap closer to my eyebrows the hoisted the straps up to my shoulders. Going after my mother is suicide, but I didn't want her to get hurt. "Tell your mom that I am going to find a telephone booth to call my dad."

After Paige let out another sigh, she wished me good luck then hurried into the lighted building. With her gone, I managed to take out my phone once more and checked the battery. The green bar remained sturdy on tip. It was a good thing  I hardly use my phone.

I may need it to take more pictures of the license plate and ask Uncle Seth if he could run some diagnostics. Tucking my phone back into my jacket pocket, I raced over to the sidewalk to avoid the passing cars. I headed straight down until my phone started to ring.

Annoyed, I picked up the phone and noticed Uncle Seth has been calling me three times. "Hey Uncle Seth," I panted. "I notice you were trying to call me. What's going on?" A low garbled voice escaped from the speakerphone. This wasn't Uncle Seth's. "Uncle Seth?" I called again. On the other side, I could hear someone cheering loudly. "Take those Red-Sox down!" a voice hollered.

I looked at my phone in disbelief. Did he just butt dialed me? "Uncle Seth!" I barked. Still, there was no response. Rolling my eyes, I hung up the phone then resumed my way to the car chase until a loud explosion came out of nowhere.

I covered my eyes and glanced around, hoping that I didn't stepped on a bomb. However, the explosion wasn't in my direction. The flowing dust cloud meant that the blast came right across the county bank. Swallowing a gulp, I forced myself to go there and see what happened. 

My stomach never felt this queasy since the Destroyed case. As soon as I arrived at the scene, I saw cop cars surrounding the black Ferrari. But when I got closer, the flames had already engulfed the driver.