The Odds of Getting Even Read Online Free PDF

silence.
    Footsteps pounded up the hall and the bailiff clattered into the room. “Jailbreak!” the bailiff shouted. “Macon Johnson’s gone!”
    â€œEveryone stay calm!” Mayor Little screamed.
    Dale sprinted for the side door, Harm and me on his heels. We pounded down the hall and skidded to a halt by the jailhouse guard, who lay on the floor. The back door stood ajar, and a cold breeze prowled the room.
    Starr shouldered past, pistol drawn. “Call for backup,” he shouted at the bailiff. He felt for the guard’s pulse as Capers slipped in behind us.
    The guard’s eyes fluttered open. “What happened?”
    â€œMacon Johnson’s escaped,” I said.
    â€œSon of a gun,” he said, rubbing his head. “I thought we were friends. I sent him in to change clothes. Next thing I knew,
wham!
Hit from behind.”
    I frowned. “From behind?”
    Capers scribbled a note. “He assaulted you and escaped?”
    â€œLaid me out like a side of beef.”
    I made a note.
    Hit from behind. Guard = Side of beef.
    â€œGuess I missed the rest,” he added, his hand goingto his holster. He glared at Starr. “Give my pistol back. I had to sign for it.”
    â€œYour
pistol
?” Starr said, his gray eyes sweeping the room.
    Pistol, I wrote. Gone.
    â€œAnything else missing?” I asked, and the guard patted his pockets.
    He closed his eyes and went the color of cement. “My keys.”
    Dale, Harm, and me rushed the back door. The driveway sat empty as heartbreak.
    â€œDaddy in a black-and-white?” Dale said. He looked at Starr. “I’d like to say on behalf of my entire family that stealing a patrol car is wrong. We know that. It’s something we’d show remorse over.”
    â€œHe took the
patrol
car?” Capers said. “Imbecile!”
    â€œYou better set up a search,” I told Starr. “Maybe close down the highways out of the county and issue a curfew. He’ll probably hide until dark and try to sneak out of the area. He’ll go south. His accent would give him away up north.”
    â€œBe quiet, Mo,” he snapped as the bailiff stepped back in. Starr, who secretly likes me, sighed. “Issue a bulletin: ‘Macon Johnson’s escaped, armed and dangerous. In a patrol car. Block the highways. Tupelo Landing’s on lockdown at sunset.’ I’ll dust for printslater. Macon may have had an accomplice,” he added. “All we have is the guard’s word, and he was . . .”
    I checked my notes. “Laid out like a side of beef.” I went detective-to-detective. “If you ask me—”
    â€œThanks, but I didn’t,” he replied. “Get out and let me work. All of you.”
    We trooped down the hall. “Well,” I told Dale. “At least things can’t get worse.”
    Wrong.
    Things got worse the instant we stepped into the courtroom. “Dale,” Attila shrilled. “Is your stupid daddy on the lam again?”
    Dale elbowed Harm. “On a lamb?”
    â€œOn the lam. It means on the run,” Harm said.
    I grabbed center stage. “Quiet down. Desperado Detectives have a statement.”
    â€œAllow me, Mo,” Capers said, stepping in front of me.
    Did she just upstage me?
I looked into Miss Lana’s horrified eyes. To Miss Lana, upstaging is a capital crime.
    Capers continued: “Macon hit the guard, stole his pistol, and escaped, armed and dangerous . . .” She did a dramatic pause good as Miss Lana’s. “In a patrol car.”
    â€œA
patrol
car?” Attila shrieked like a blond-headed parrot.
    â€œA black-and-white?” Lavender gasped. “You have to be kidding me.”
    â€œNo,” Dale said. “We don’t.”
    My gaze found Dale’s mama. Folks say Miss Rose was drop-dead gorgeous before Mr. Macon got hold of her. She still turns heads, but now she’s