Chow Down (A Melanie Travis Mystery)

every day. It was enough to make me want to walk past the whole bunch and pretend that I didn’t know any of them.
    Instead sympathy slowed my pace. Well . . . maybe that and a little curiosity. Faith sensed my ambivalence and used that as an excuse to detour over toward the group and touch noses with Yoda. For once the Toy dog was on the ground rather than in her owner’s arms.
    In that brief moment of hesitation on my part, Lisa felt the slight tug on her leash, glanced over to see what was causing it, and caught my eye. She looked stressed, unhappy, and desperately in need of rescuing.
    I didn’t even stop to think. I simply veered in, linked my arm through hers, and said firmly, “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
    For a second, I didn’t think she’d come. But Lisa wanted an escape and I’d conveniently offered her one. She swooped down, grabbed Yoda up off the sidewalk, and away we went.
    It all happened so fast that Doug was still speaking as we made our getaway. I was pretty sure I heard Simone gasp.
    “Hey!” Cindy cried in protest.
    Lisa and I didn’t stop. We didn’t look back either. Our pace didn’t slow down until we’d turned the corner. Then I took a deep breath and checked to make sure that no one was following us.
    Fortunately the coast was clear. It would have been a little embarrassing if we’d had to start to run. Faith probably would have enjoyed herself though.
    “Where are we going?” Lisa asked after a minute had passed. She sounded perfectly content to follow my lead.
    “Home.” I steered her toward the parking garage where I’d left the Volvo. “Back to Connecticut. How did you get here?”
    “By train. Metro-North.”
    “With Yoda?”
    Lisa nodded. “She’s small enough to fit inside my bag and she knows enough to keep quiet. The conductors never notice and the other passengers think it’s cute.”
    “Well unless you have an objection, you can drive back out with me and Faith. I’ll drop you off at the train station where you left your car.”
    Doing so would take me out of my way but under the circumstances that hardly seemed to matter. Fate had just handed me a golden opportunity to find out what the heck was going on, and I wasn’t about to pass it up.
    “Sounds good,” said Lisa.
    After the verbal pummeling I’d just witnessed, I got the impression that anything that put distance between her and the Champions crew would have sounded good.
    I retrieved the Volvo and we pulled out into city traffic, which had grown exponentially in the last several hours. Lisa sat in silence, which was fine by me; I needed to concentrate on not missing any turns or hitting any double-parked cars.
    By the time we’d crossed the bridge back out of Manhattan and were zipping along the highway, however, I was ready to hear some answers. Faith, who’d given up her shotgun position to Lisa, was curled up on the back seat. Yoda was tucked in beside her. I turned off the radio and set the stage. No distractions, no excuses.
    With luck, Lisa would chalk up my intrusiveness to the cost of being rescued. The woman owed me something, didn’t she?
    “You caused quite a sensation showing up like you did back there,” I said.
    “Ummm.”
    She might have been agreeing with me. Then again, she might just have been stretching her lips. It was hard to tell.
    Lisa folded her hands in her lap and stared determinedly out the windshield. Like she was afraid that if she took her eyes off the road, we might hit something. It wasn’t the most promising start to a conversation.
    “So what’s up?”
    “Up?” Her gaze flickered my way.
    “You know . . . Everyone’s been looking for you. Where have you been?”
    “Looking for me?” Lisa sounded amazed. As if this was the first she’d heard of that.
    “That’s what happens when people disappear.” Up until this point I’d had very little interaction with Lisa. Maybe I’d overlooked the fact that she was mentally challenged. “Other people look for them.”
    This time she actually turned and looked at me. “I didn’t disappear.”
    “When we got back from Central Park last week, you and Yoda left Champions but never arrived home. Nobody knew where you were.”
    “Oh that.”
    Yes that! I wanted to scream. But I’m a teacher, I’ve had practice holding my tongue.
    “That was no big deal. I just needed . . .” She stopped and thought. “I guess I needed a little time off.”
    Though I was tempted, I refrained from drumming