(xxxi.)

"Seriously, officer. That's what happened."

The police officer stared at the man, incredulously.

"Get out of the car."
"But--"
"Get out. Of. The car."

The man stepped out.

"Could you tell me why you're wearing all white? You in some kind of cult, or somthing?"
"I told you, I'm an Ice Cream Truck driver. I just told you that."
"And some crazy girl came, and held you at knife point, demanding you give her your truck, in exchange for this car?"
"Yeah... only it was a sword, not a knife."
"That's gotta be the stupidest thing I've ever heard. I mean, if you're gonna--"

"Tom! Tom! You gotta hear this!"

The officer rolled his eyes, as his partner tried, enthusiastically, to get his attention.

"What do I have to hear?"
"You remember before, when they were putting out a warning, about that suspected killer?"
"Yeah."
"And she was in a red Toyota?"
"Yeah."
"Well, apparently, she ditched the Toyota. She dissapeared off the radar screen altogether."

The officer turned back to the Ice Cream Truck driver. He swaggered, to the front of the car, and examined the hood of the car. "...Toyota."

"You said she held you at, uh, sword-point? And took your truck in exchange for this car?"
"Well, yeah, but you said--"
"Come on. We're gonna go find you're truck."


[chapter xxxii]