Orchids and Stone by Lisa Preston Page B

minutes ago and—”
    “We have officers and an ambulance en route to an injury accident at Eastpark Avenue and Spencer Street, ma’am.”
    “Yes. Good. But I’m calling about something else. Just before. There was a man. A man and a woman and they took a little old lady. The lady’s name is Minerva Watts and she lives on Eastpark and they took her in a navy blue Lincoln Town Car, but I didn’t get the license. It starts with a Y and then I think another letter. I was trying to get the plate and that’s when the accident happened.”
    “Is this car involved in the accident on Eastpark, ma’am?”
    “No, but—”
    “Is it at the scene?”
    “It’s not part of the accident,” Daphne said, waving her free hand in frustration. “The man who’s driving it, see, he chased me. He and this woman took this lady, Minerva Watts. The woman called him ‘Guff’ and he grabbed me and I got away and he chased me—”
    “What is your name, ma’am?”
    “Daphne Mayfield.”
    “Where did the incident of a man and a woman taking an old lady occur?”
    “At her house, 11243 Eastpark Avenue. Something’s definitely wrong there. Yesterday, they took her from the Peace Park. I called that in, too. Didn’t anyone call today? Someone must have seen something.”
    “Does Minerva Watts know the man and woman? Did she call the man Guff?”
    “No. The other lady called him Guff.”
    “And Guff grabbed you?”
    “And he took my jacket. My wallet and phone were in it. And he chased me and they were driving like crazy down Eastpark and I was trying to catch them so I could at least get the license plate, and then I had this accident and they got away, but I think you should—”
    “Ma’am, slow down. An officer is on the way, okay? A police officer is on the way to you right now.”
    Sirens wailed outside and Daphne took a breath. “I hear them. I can hear them.”
    “Okay, talk to the officer. Good-bye.”
    “Bye,” Daphne said to the dead line, going back outside to face more than she felt able to rectify.
    Two blue police cars, sirens dying a block away, nosed up to the wreckage. The Sonics man pointed to Daphne then the Honda, SUV, and the two-door in turn. The first officer swung from his car, held a hand out to the man and talked into a shoulder microphone for several seconds before going to the SUV. A red and white ambulance bearing the words Medic One on the side pulled in behind the second police car.
    “It’s all her fault!” The Sonics man pointed Daphne out to the second police officer.
    Had the dispatcher already sent another officer chasing across the city for the Town Car? Daphne pursed her lips, thinking how much time had passed, how big the city was, how impossible a minute’s head start made pursuit of a fleeing car.
    “She ran right through the red light. She was speeding, too.”
    The officer looked at the witness then Daphne. She resisted the urge to run to the officers and insert her non-accident needs. The fleeing Town Car was more important but the accident was the attention grabber. She rubbed her head and nodded at both men.
    The first officer left the SUV and strode for the two-door, pointing to Vic’s Honda as he went by Daphne. “Yours?”
    She nodded again. When he told her to wait beside it, she walked to the car. How much longer? How far away would the couple with Minerva Watts get? How impossible would it be to find already? Where on earth would they be going?
    Paramedics opened a large plastic tackle box beside the blond in the SUV. One pulled out a stethoscope and the other opened a dressing.
    Feeling inappropriate on too many levels to gawk at the woman while the medics tended her cut head, Daphne turned, watched the first officer stop talking to the young man at the two-door long enough to nod and wave off the other cop. When the second policeman got in his car and drove away, Daphne tried to take a measure of calm. Maybe he would go after the Lincoln. The accident wasn’t