BooksBarbecue
Back The Runaway
Chapters (80)
  1. Cover
  2. TITLES BY NICK PETRIE
  3. Dedication
  4. Epigraph
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. 47
  52. 48
  53. 49
  54. 50
  55. 51
  56. 52
  57. 53
  58. 54
  59. 55
  60. 56
  61. 57
  62. 58
  63. 59
  64. 60
  65. 61
  66. 62
  67. 63
  68. 64
  69. 65
  70. 66
  71. 67
  72. 68
  73. 69
  74. 70
  75. 71
  76. 72
  77. 73
  78. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  79. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  80. What’s next on your reading list?

The NV headset fell off and the guy stopped fighting. Peter grabbed the front of his jacket and dragged him clear. Cupcake leaped from the car and went for his crotch.

Peter figured she deserved a treat after being such a good dog, but the femoral artery was in the groin and he didn’t want the driver to bleed out, so he blocked her with a knee. She stumbled back, snarling, and went after the man’s leg as Bobbie ran around the front bumper. “Leave it, Cupcake. Leave it.”

As Bobbie got the dog under control, Peter yanked up the man’s jacket and pulled a small automatic pistol from a waistband holster.

The front sight had been filed down flush with the barrel, turning the gun into an ugly little quick-draw weapon, good only for close-quarters killing of people who’d never see it coming.

26

HELENE

THEN

The dead woman had left her keys in the little blue SUV. Helene sat in the driver’s seat, the engine running. She could still hear the scream of the power saw. Roy leaned on the open window.

Her pink backpack was on the front seat of his truck. With his fist clamped hard on her elbow, Roy had pushed her past the truck and humming trailer to the blue SUV. Helene tried not to look past him at the woman lying on the grass. She wasn’t asleep. Nobody fell asleep with their head at that angle.

“Remember the trailhead?” he asked. “At the end of the road, where we turned around? Leave the car there. Use the tail of your shirt to wipe off the steering wheel and the window button and anything else you touched. Lock the door, throw the keys as far downslope as you can, and find a place nobody can see you.”

Helene looked back at the truck. Her entire life was in that backpack, everything she owned in the world. It might as well have been on the moon. “You’re not coming with me?”

“I’ll be right behind you,” he said. “We need to get that safe open.”

Her hands were so tight on the wheel, they hurt. “Did you have to kill that woman?”

“I wish I hadn’t,” he said. She thought of his pink cheeks afterward and wondered if that was true. “Anyway, it’s done and I can’t undo it. So we might as well get what we came for. With what those guns are worth, that safe’s gonna be loaded with cash, probably gold and silver, too.” He looked back at the house, distracted.

If she was going to ask, now was the time. “Roy, will you get me my backpack? It’s like my purse. I feel naked without it.”

His head swiveled toward her. She saw something flash across his face, like irritation but darker. “You need to trust me, honey. You’re my wife, remember? Just do what I say and everything will be fine.”