"Bad news," Officer Edwards said as he helped Emily down from her hideout in the fire engine cab. "The suspect slipped past our stake-out, hopped into his car and sped off."

"Oh no!"

"Don't worry. Officer Ransome, patrolling the west side, saw him roar past on the road out of town. We have a good description of the car now. We'll spot him if he tries again."

"If he uses the same vehicle," Emily muttered.

Firemen joked nearby as they took down their carnival booth. Fair-goers ambled past, leaving the grounds with balloons and prizes. A nippy night wind whisked shreds of crepe paper streamers and an empty popcorn basket on their heels.

"You dropped something." Officer Edwards bent, then stood with a small object in hand.

"My shepherd's whistle," Emily said. "A carnival prize. Came in handy for clearing mud off that license plate."

Edwards studied it in the dim light. "My cousin uses one of these to direct his sheepdogs. You pop it clear into your mouth to blow on it. I never could make it work. This one's too filthy to even try!"

Margret came bustling up, still wearing her square dance dress. "What's this I'm hearing? You dashed off like a madwoman, knocking people over and scaring the kiddies! And left the crystal ball behind! How could you?"

"It's just a snow globe. And I didn't knock anyone over."

Officer Edwards intervened. "Take it easy, Mrs Riggins. Another encounter with those Seattle mobsters. Why don't you take Mrs Kassell home now? She's had enough for one day."

Emily shivered on their walk to Margret's car. She kept her gaze on half-seen rooftops and the shadowy boughs of trees. Her eyes ached from peering at the ground-level gossamer strands invisible to most people, the shimmering thread of aura left in the footsteps of passing creatures, human and otherwise. Cat-sight had enabled her to backtrack tonight's villain and locate his car, but as Davy Edwards had said -- she'd had enough.

"Hattie and Ginny are taking down the fortune-telling booth," Margret said as she drove. "They're glad you showed up to play the part, though you should have heard them fret earlier. You sure cut it close!"

"I couldn't get back to town any sooner," Emily said.

"By the way, there's something I didn't tell you."

Emily studied her neighbor's profile. "Oh?"

"Well, you told me not to tell anyone where you'd gone!" Margret protested. "Or when you'd be back!"

"Ye-ess?"

"Clarissa came banging on my door. I tried to shoo her off, send her away, but she didn't listen to me. You probably shouldn't have given her a spare key."

"A spare-- I never gave her a key!"

"Well, she found where you hid one then."

"Is she in my house?"

They rounded the corner onto their street just then. Emily peered toward her property.

She gasped. Gossamer strands filled the yard from fence to fence, bright perky ribbons darting to and fro until she couldn't see the lawn for the tangled netting.

"What--? How long--?"

"Fiveor six days now," Margret said through gritted teeth. "And she isn'talone."

.

prompt: walk