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 onyour reading list?

The coyotes didn’t move. They barely looked at him. They were focused on her.

Roy took the pistol from his belt, pointed it at the ground, and pulled the trigger. The sound was loud.

The animals tensed. They didn’t leave, but he definitely had their attention. He pulled the trigger twice more. BANG. BANG. “Go on, get out of here.”

Finally, as if it had thought of something better to do, the coyote on the driveway trotted into the trees to join the other. Although Helene could still see them both, watching from the underbrush.

“Didn’t I tell you about them? There’s a whole pack. They get kind of bold because I’m gone a lot.” Roy flashed his warm smile, put his big hand on her arm, and turned her toward the house. “Better stick close to home.”

Up the hill, someone tapped a horn. She looked over her shoulder and saw the gray truck coming down the drive.

30

Hollywood backed the truck and trailer up the dirt ramp and into the barn beside Roy’s. Helene stood in the opening and watched while the men reorganized the contents. Roy’s trailer took all the antique furniture and crated paintings and guns. The little convertible and expensive bikes and boxes of power tools went in the gray trailer. If there was cash or jewelry or gold, she didn’t see it. The chest freezer stayed in Roy’s trailer, the generator humming away.

Every few minutes, she felt Frank’s eyes on her, his expression unreadable.

There were other things in the barn. A blue Jeep, a small white car, a pair of ATVs, and an old green tractor with a scoop on the front and a bucket on the back. Nothing she could use right now, she thought. But maybe later. If she could find the keys.

Repacking the trailers didn’t take long. When they were done, they pulled the trucks into the yard, Pony Boy behind the wheel of one and Frank driving the other. Roy closed the barn door and fastened the pair of fat padlocks on heavy hasps. Then he grabbed her up and gave her a big kiss.

“You’re on your own for a little while. A week, ten days. We’ve got to offload this stuff and get paid.”

She stared at him, unable to process this.

“I know, honey, I wish you could come, too. But the people we’re going to meet, they don’t like new faces.” He patted her butt. “Don’t worry, I’ll tell ’em all about you for next time.”

“I need a car, Roy. How do I get groceries?”

“There’s plenty of food. You’ll be fine.” Roy climbed into the passenger seat and gave her a wink. “Best be inside by suppertime. The coyotes get more aggressive after dark.”

Frank hit the gas, following Pony Boy up the driveway. And then they were gone.

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