Chapter 4

Spilling the Dirt

8:15 a.m.

Sabrina stared at Puck and shifted a bit awkwardly. "Yes. It is some kind of drugs, but not for hu-"

"But what? Why-How could you?"

"I'm not! That's the thing!"

"Then what?" Puck asked, placing his hands on his hips.

"I'm selling them." Puck's jaw dropped.

"What?"

"Stop being so un-Puck like. You seem more like the person to encourage it. -I'm buying them from Tom Keith and selling them for higher prices."

"How come you needed money from me last night if you're just going to sell them?"

"I just wanted to make sure that I had the money."

"Where are you going now?" Puck asked.

"To use them," Sabrina replied sarcastically. Puck's expression became unreadable, then Sabrina added, "No, I'm going to sell them."

"I don't believe you."

Sabrina stared at him and turned around to return to her car, go in, and started it. Puck opened the passenger side door and climbed in.

"Who invited you?" Sabrina asked as she got the car back on the road. She couldn't just sit there awkwardly and not pick a fight. Fighting is how they communicated. Anything else would mean something was not right. Sabrina didn't want that, not right now.

"The Trickster King doesn't need an invitation," Puck said with no emotion.

Sabrina turned on the radio. After about 5 minutes of commercials and another chorus of "Payphone", Puck turned his head toward her and asked, "Can you tell me one thing?"

Something was different. Sabrina sensed it. This mischievous spirit he always had about him was not present.

She turned down the radio just a bit and rolled her eyes to the ceiling, preparing for something unpredictable. She sighed. "One."

"Why are you doing this?"

"I need money."

"For what?"

"You said one question."

"It won't kill you," he snapped. "If you don't I will tell everyonein that house what you're doing."

Sabrina glanced at him. He was looking at her. She gave him a glare. "You wouldn't dare."

"Oh, I think you know I would."

She sensed the mischievousness returning. She turned her head toward him again, and his hand was on the handle. He was just about to pull it.

"NO!"

"Then tell me!"

"On the way home," Sabrina snapped. Puck grunted.

Not long after that, they pulled up outside the newly remodeled "Blueplate Special" and parked close to the fence that separated it from the Ferryport Landing Fire Station.

Sabrina climbed out, but before she closed the door, she leaned down so her head was just barely in the car and whispered, "Don't go anywhere." Puck rolled his eyes.

She walked toward the fence, which was about two feet away from the red brick wall of the diner. She pressed the lump in her jacket, looked around, and squeezed in between the fence and building, disappearing from view.

Fifteen minutes passed, while Puck sat in the passenger seat contemplating if he should drive away, even though he hardly knew how. Flying was his transportation. He was about to slide into the driver's seat when Sabrina walked out from behind the diner. Unfortunately, he had taken off the brake. Puck quickly slid back in to his seat. The car started to roll.

"Crap."

Sabrina noticed and made a mad rush for it.

"BRAKE BRAKE BRAKE!" She shouted. She kept running and was able to successfully grab onto the driver's side mirror. She was able to slow it down to almost a stop and climb into the seat.

"You fink," she muttered in a tone that made his spine tingle. She slipped her wallet into her jacket pocket and started the car and drove out onto the road.

"You can tell me now."

"It's for a new car."

Puck was silent for a moment. "How much have you got?"

"I've got about $3,000 so far. I'm not gonna do it for much longer, because I'm going to sell this one too and that will give me at least $4,000 because it's in great shape and a classic."

"And how are you going to explain this new car?"

"I'll just say that I got enough money from this one."

"Boy, you've got it all figured, haven't you?"

"Pretty much."