CHAPTER 11
“Now, that’s a happy note.” I hung up the phone, somehow managing not to bang my injured finger. “Julian says I am totally ignorant. And worse, he’s afraid Miss Ferrell isn’t going to write him a good recommendation for Cornell.”
“He’s sunk,” proclaimed Audrey. “He won’t get in now if he invents a solar-powered car.”
“Oh, give me a break.”
“Come on,” Schulz interjected. “That’s just the kind of car we need down at the Sheriff’s Department.”
Audrey smiled shyly. On my index finger the bite area throbbed. I peeked under the bandage and saw that the redness had resolved itself into an enormous, ugly blister. I pondered it glumly. Schulz poured more tea. He wasn’t going anywhere, and I didn’t know whether this sudden lack of purpose stemmed from concern for me or curiosity abou
