52As we raced off in my red rent-a-car, I shoved my phone in Peg’s face. “Call the cops! Do it!”
Peg pushed the phone away. “It’s a waste of time.”
“Forget about your feud with Otto and just call them.”
She grabbed the phone and stuck it against her ear without dialing. “Hello, police? Can you come to Stush’s Diner right away? We think Father Speedy the priest is going to kill Uncle Stush. What’s that?” She pretended to listen. “Why, no, we don’t have any evidence. But we feel very strongly that a highly respected Catholic priest is about to commit his third murder in two weeks. Hello? Hello?” She tossed the phone in my lap. “They hung up.”
Maybe she was right. In which case, one question jumped out at me. “How can we stop him without the cops?” As I whipped the car ar
