Arresting the Easter Bunny

By Natalie Peck

There's nothing worse than having a tire blow out. On the freeway. On your way to work. While dressed in a fuzzy white rabbit costume.
Except maybe being accused of texting and driving by the guy you cut off while trying to regain control of your car and trying to prove to the police officer that your name truly is Bunny Smith when you've accidentally left your driver's license in your locker at work.
Carrington Jones was grumpy about the business meeting. His day only got worse when the old Junker of a car swerved in front of him, and when he saw the woman driver holding her phone, he blew his top. Mobile phone use behind the wheel was illegal, and he’d see she paid for all the damage to his Mercedes!
Can Smith and Jones get things worked out, or will the officer on the scene be arresting the Easter Bunny?

• Language: English
• Publisher: The Electric Scroll
• Release date: Feb 17, 2022
• ISBN: 9781946888150

Natalie Peck

Natalie Peck lives in Gilbert, Arizona with her family and a thousand romance novels. She enjoys dining from her good china by candle-light, especially when the special guests are her husband and children. She loves to hear from her readers, and promises to answer every email.

Book preview

Natalie Peck

Copyright 2022, The Electric Scroll

Smashwords Edition

All rights reserved. Published in the United States of America by The Electric Scroll. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without written permission from the publisher. For information contact The Electric Scroll, 745 N. Gilbert Rd. Ste 124 PMB 197, Gilbert, Arizona, 85234.

The characters in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and entirely in the imagination of the reader.

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Arresting the Easter Bunny

About the Author

Books by Natalie Peck

Connect with me online

~ One ~

BUNNY SMITH STEPPED into the pink and white jumpsuit and pulled it up, shrugging her arms through the sleeves, a smile on her face. It was a chilly day, and she was glad she was slated to wear the warm, fleecy rabbit costume rather than something which left her arms and legs exposed to the elements. Dressed as a pixie, she'd freeze.

Bunny closed the concealed zipper, making sure the costume's collar was standing up to help form the seamless joint when she added the head later. White stocking-covered feet stepped easily into her all-purpose black slip-on shoes. She put the fuzzy, oversized rabbit feet into the upturned costume's head, adding the furry white rabbit gloves that hid her people-hands from the party-goers.

Reaching into her purse, Bunny pulled out the card holder which always contained her driver's license and spare business cards. She tucked it into a thigh pocket, changed her cell phone to vibrate only and added it to the pocket, then closed its concealed zipper.

Turning, Bunny put her purse into her locker alongside her street clothing, closed the door and secured it with her purple combination lock. Picking up the rabbit head, she tucked it under her arm, then collected her car keys from the counter and left the dressing room.

I'm off to the Johansen's Easter party, she called to her receptionist. See you Monday.

Jalisa nodded an acknowledgement as she picked up the phone and answered it.

Bunny grabbed the large basket with a plastic bag full of brightly colored plastic eggs, each of which contained a small toy. Juggling the basket handle and the large rabbit head of her costume while still keeping one hand full of car keys yet being able to unlock her car was a little tricky, but she managed it.

The basket went onto the back seat with a seat belt around it to keep it in place in case of a sudden stop. The rabbit head got the same treatment in the front passenger seat. As she started her Corolla, Bunny checked the car's clock. There was time to get to the park on the other side of town with about fifteen minutes to spare. Perfect.

She easily negotiated the streets between her office and the freeway. It was Saturday and traffic was light. As she drove, part of her mind was busy paying attention to the traffic around her, and part of it was settling into the right mindset for the character she was about to play, her namesake, actually.

By tradition, Easter bunnies were mute, therefore, she had to remember not to speak to any of the children but communicate with them only through gestures. This task was made more difficult by the fact that the head part of this costume didn't move, so nodding and shaking the head for yes and no were not possible.

A loud explosion sounded, and Bunny's car started shaking as it swerved violently to the right. She immediately pulled her foot off the gas pedal and jerked the steering wheel back to the left – a little too far.

Startled by the sudden crisis, her heart raced and her breathing escalated. As the car slowed, she was able to regain control of it and her breathing enough to guide the car to the side of the road.

By the time she'd brought the car to a halt, she realized what had happened. Her right front tire had blown out. How had this happened? She'd had her car in for its annual inspection just a month ago, and the tires had been fine then. Bunny hadn't seen anything in the road big enough to fatally puncture a tire.

No matter: she'd have to deal with the how and why later. First, she'd have to deal with more immediate concerns, like changing the tire while wearing her rabbit costume. She didn't keep any type of coveralls in the car to protect her clothing while changing a flat tire. Neither the pink parts nor the pristine white of the bunny costume would look great smeared with greasy, filthy-black tire dirt.

Too bad she didn't have any of her male employees with her today. Of course, they'd have been in costume, too, and would look just as bad after changing a tire. Bunny promised herself she'd invest in a pair of coveralls to keep in the trunk from now on. Well, first things first. She slid her phone from its pocket and dialed the Johansen's number.

Thank goodness today's client had been Bunny's college roommate, and one of her biggest supporters when she'd started her business. Now married, Sally's husband had a great job. She hired Bunny frequently, but not often enough her children and their friends expected awesome characters to show up at every party.

Sally, this is Bunny, she said when Mrs. Johansen answered. I've just had a tire blow out on the freeway. I might be a little late, but I'll get there as soon as I can.

No problem. You were scheduled for the beginning of the party, and it's supposed to last an hour and a half. The kids don't know you're coming, so just get here when you can.

Thanks, Sally.

A shadow covered her window, and a man began pounding on the glass. Bunny jumped. Immersed in her phone call, she hadn't seen him walk up to the car. She unrolled the window just far enough to hear what he was saying.

... and I see that phone you're on. What do you think you're doing, swerving all over the freeway? Don't you know it's illegal to drive and use a cell phone? You've run me off the road, you stupid blonde! Just so you know, I've written down your license plate, so you better not try taking off before the police get here! Women drivers who don't know any better should be banned from driving!

Bunny rolled the window back up, her heart beating madly, but she didn't know if it was fear or anger at the idiot who was yelling at her. He obviously had nothing constructive to say, and just as obviously had called the police, so all she had to do was sit and wait for them to arrive. She wasn't getting out of her car before she needed to, with this man on the rampage.

Her car must have swerved in front of him when her tire blew. Looking into her rear-view mirror, Bunny could see a deep blue Mercedes with the right front fender badly crumpled against the cement barrier that formed the edge of the freeway. The bumper looked like it had curved under and was tight against his front tire. He wouldn't be able to drive it away from here.

She took a deep breath and sighed it out. In addition to the flat tire, she didn't need this man's rudeness right now. One thing in her favor, though, was that the shredded tire was proof it hadn't been her fault that she'd run him into the wall. The man outside was still yelling, his anger turning his face a deep red. Much taller than she was, she definitely wanted to avoid a physical confrontation with him.

She looked away from him, the better to avoid getting angry herself at the situation or his stupid accusations. Even had the accident been her fault, the police would still protect her from his road-rage assault.

~ Two ~

IT WASN'T LONG before a police car pulled up behind the Mercedes. The officer got out. The irate man hurried over to him, gesticulating wildly. Bunny waited quietly in her car, knowing she was safer here from both the traffic and the other driver. The officer would soon come to ask her side of the story. She could wait. Taking deep, controlled breaths, she calmed herself.

After a few minutes, the still-yelling man must have started repeating himself, because the officer sat him in the back seat of the police cruiser, inspected the damage to the Mercedes, then walked forward toward Bunny's car. She rolled the window down and waited while the officer walked all around her car inspecting it before he approached her door.

Could you tell me what happened here?

"Certainly, Officer. I was driving in the second lane, and my right front tire blew out. My car shook and swerved right, but I managed to get it back under control and move into the emergency lane. Once I was stopped, I called my clients to tell them I'd be late getting to their Easter party.

The gentleman now in your car came up to my window while I was on the phone to my clients and started screaming at me about women drivers, dumb blondes, and being on the phone while driving. He yelled that he'd written down my license plate number, so I'd better not drive off before you came. Since it was obvious he'd already called you, I thought it was best to stay in my car and avoid further trouble with him while I waited for you to arrive.

You're claiming you were not on the phone at the time of the incident?

She could hear the skepticism in his voice and shook her head. I was not. I wish there were some way to prove it, though.

It depends; there might be. May I see your cell phone?

What are you going to do with it?

I'm going to look at the phone log and compare the time you made the most recent phone call with the time the gentleman's 9-1-1 call was received. Additionally, I can call the most recent number and ask them to verify what you told me the conversation was about. There's no doubt that your tire has blown out; it's obvious from the way it's shredded. I'm just trying to discover whether or not you were using the phone at the time.

Bunny handed over her cell phone, pleased to know there was a way to verify she hadn't been using it at the time her tire blew out. The officer rapidly punched at the screen several times, then handed it back. She set it in the cup holder where she habitually let it ride when it wasn't in a costume's pocket.

As she turned back to the officer, she noticed that a tow truck had arrived and was getting ready to load the Mercedes onto its flat bed. That had been fast. Mr. Mercedes Man must have called them while waiting for the police. Well, good for him. He'd be out of her hair all the faster and she wouldn't have to listen to his rude comments while she changed her tire.

I don't need to call and bother your clients, the officer said. Your last call was made after the 9-1-1 call was recorded, and the most recent call before that was this morning. I do need to see your driver's license though.

So you're saying you believe I'm not at fault in this accident? Bunny reached in the concealed pocket she'd unzipped to get to her phone and pulled out the silver card case.

In my opinion, the accident was caused by your tire blowing out, which made you swerve. In trying not to hit your car, the driver behind you also swerved, and hit the boundary wall. The other three tires on your car are all in good shape, so I don't believe the blowout was caused from neglect of your tires. In court, I would have to testify that in my opinion I don't believe any blame should be attached to you. There will be an accident report, but I won't be issuing either of you a ticket.

Bunny huffed out a grateful sigh. She watched the tow truck driver step to the front of her car and look at her tire. Good. More witnesses that this wasn't her fault; the more the merrier who could testify against Mr. Bad-Tempered Mercedes Man so she wouldn't be thrown in jail.

Bunny turned back to what she was doing and opened the card holder. She reached behind the business cards for her driver's license. It wasn't there.

Oh, no! She sucked in a quick breath and held it for a second while she checked again.

What?

My license isn't here.

You don't have a license?

"I have a license, and I always keep it in this, she held up the holder, when I'm in costume, but it isn't here. I don't know where it is. It must be in my purse back at the office."

The officer took a deep breath and let it out slowly. How often do you drive around in a costume?

Usually three or four times a week. It's my job. I do different costumed characters for parties. Usually children's parties, but not always.

What's your name?

Bunny Smith.

He did a double-take, his eyebrows shooting high on his forehead. What?

Bunny Smith, she repeated with resignation. She'd been through this thousands of times and depending on the situation she was in found it funny, tiresome, but mostly irksome.

The officer shook his head slightly and took in a deep breath, as though holding onto his temper before he spoke. When he did speak, sarcasm was thick in his voice. It matched the look of disgust that was now riding on his face.

Ri-i-i-ight. Come on, lady, tell me your real name.

Bunny sighed, then squared her shoulders. Bunny Smith, she said stubbornly.

Look; I've told you the accident isn't your fault, so it won't go on your driving record. But now I've got to give you a ticket for driving without a license, and if you don't give me your real name, I won't have any choice except to arrest you for obstruction of justice and take you to jail until we find out who you really are. That's a record that will stick with you for the rest of your life. Now I'll give you one last chance. Tell me what your full, legal name is.

Bunny took a deep breath and looked the officer directly in the eyes, trying with all her might to project honesty and seriousness toward him even though she didn't believe in telepathy.

"Officer, my full, legal name is Bunny Smith. That's what it says on my birth certificate and my driver's license. It's the only name I have. I'd offer you the car's registration and insurance papers, but the car officially belongs to my company, and the company name is on those papers. I can give you back my cell phone and you can call anyone in it and they will tell you that's my name. I am being as cooperative as I can be. Please believe me and let me change my tire and get to the party I'm contracted to be at."

She blinked back sudden tears and wished, not for the first time, that her parents hadn't thought Bunny was a cute name to give to a baby girl born on Easter Sunday.

The Mercedes driver, now calm, suddenly appeared next to the police officer.

Can I go yet? he asked. The tow driver is asking if he can be released too and says he can give me a ride as far as the garage, anyway.

The officer ignored him and held his hand out to Bunny. Your cell phone, please.

Bunny retrieved it and handed it back to him, while trying to ignore the rude man standing next to the officer. The road-rage idiot still made her nervous, even though he wasn't yelling at her at the moment.

The officer poked at the screen, then held the phone up to his ear, waiting for someone to answer. Bunny wondered who he had called.

No, ma'am, this is Officer Robert Kesselton. I'm with the police department.

No, she hasn't been hurt.

Well, I don't exactly know, there's been a complication. Do you happen to know the full legal name of the woman whose phone I called you from, and can you describe her to me?

He stood listening, then smiled.

And how long have you known her?

Thank you, ma'am. You've been a great help to my investigation. I'll let you get back to your party, now.

Yes, goodbye.

Ah, he'd called Sally. Good. They'd been friends since college. That should work to get her off the hook and out of the fire.

He poked at the phone again to end the call and handed it back to Bunny.

This is your lucky day. Your client has given me enough information to make a positive identification. Therefore, I won't be arresting you for anything.

Bunny grinned and pretended to wipe sweat from her brow. Whew! Thanks.

He walked back to his car.

While waiting for the officer to return to her, she noticed the Mercedes Man go to the front of her car and look at her tire. While he continued walking around her car, the officer returned to Bunny with a pad in his hands that she soon discovered was his ticket book. He wrote in it the information required for her ticket for not having her license with her while driving her car. She signed the ticket and he gave her a copy of it, then closed the book.

Is your spare tire in the trunk?

Bunny nodded.

Pop it open, please.

She reached down, pulled the lever, and saw the lid pop up, completely obstructing the view through her rear-view window.

Stay in the car.

Bunny nodded, then looked at the ticket. The policeman's name was Kesselton. Oh, that's right, he'd identified himself to Sally when he'd called her.

Officer Kesselton moved off toward the rear of her car and out of sight. The Mercedes driver filled her window, and Bunny cringed.

"Listen, I'm sorry I yelled at you like that. I was