Page 59 of Mean Streak

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She was accepting of and comfortable with the outrageousness of her situation. That, more than anything, should have frightened her.

He slowed down. “Should we stop? Is there anything you need from inside?”

“I don’t think so.”

For days she’d wanted to escape his cabin. Now anxiety tugged at her as they drove past the relative safety it represented. “Regardless of my objections, I want you to know that I do think it’s noble of you to help this young woman,” she said. “I even admire the extremes to which you’ve gone in order to help her.”

He didn’t respond, sensing there was more she had to say.

“But this isn’t my specialty and I’m ill-equipped. And if her condition is as serious as you indicate, despite her scary brothers, despite you, I’ll do whatever is necessary to get her to a hospital.”

“She won’t go, Doc. I told you. She was in Drakeland this morning. She could have gone to any number of clinics. She didn’t. She called her brothers to come get her and bring her home. They were on their way when they wrecked the truck.”

“Are the brothers expecting us?”

“I got their grudging consent to bring back a doctor. Took some persuasion from their mother.”

“There’s a mother?”

“She introduced herself as Pauline. Don’t hold the sons against her. She’s pathetic, beaten down. She’s very worried about Lisa.”

Up ahead she caught a glimpse of lights through the trees. “Is that it?”

“That’s it.”

“So they are close neighbors.”

“I already admitted to lying about that. Now, pay attention. This is important. I can’t turn my back on those guys. So if I say ‘git,’ you go, understand? No questions, no arguments, no hesitation. You just do what I say, when I say.”

“Are they really that dangerous?”

He clenched his jaw, and the ferocity of his expression was chilling. “They’re stupid and mean, and that makes them dangerous.” He patted in the vicinity of his waist. “I’ve got the pistol handy.”

“That’s supposed to make me feel better?”

“What should make you feel better is that I won’t hesitate to use it.”

He stated it unequivocally, and she believed him.

“You’ll be okay,” he said, as though sensing her mounting apprehension. “One more thing, though. They don’t know that you’re my…guest. Better that they don’t know you’re staying under my roof.”

“Better for whom?”

He braked. The truck skidded several yards before coming to a stop in the center of the road. Laying his arm along the back of the seat, he turned to her. “Better for you,” he said angrily. “Don’t use them to get away from me.”

In a small voice, she said, “I was joking.”

“It’s no joking matter. Do not ask for their help.”

“I won’t.”

“Swear it, Doc.”

“I won’t. I swear.”

He continued to stare hard at her, then lifted his foot off the brake and drove on. A quarter mile farther, he turned into a drive that was rutted and strewn with junk of every description. Even the softening effect of the snow didn’t hide the ugly scars of neglect and disrepair. Lights were on inside the house, but nothing about the property looked inviting.

Especially not the dog that charged out the front door and set up a ferocious barking. He looked like a guardian of hell as he came up on his hind legs against the passenger door of the pickup, his nails scratching against the metal. Only the window separated Emory from his bared, snapping teeth. Breathless with fear, she flattened herself against the seat.


Tags: Sandra Brown Mystery