Page 85 of Tempting Fate
All Harper had to do was make it across the road and to the first house she saw.Go, Harper, go!
With the three of them coming at her at the same time, it was difficult to keep them herded together inside pitchfork range. But in her desperation, she was able to swiftly sweep the pitchfork in wide arcs, jabbing at each one of them as they individually dove for her.Just a few more seconds, she told herself as her arms began to tire from the weight of the pitchfork and the constant motion. Just a few more seconds to help Harper get to safety, then she’d deal with the fallout.
She pierced Stringy hard enough to draw blood and tried to stick him again, hoping that if she could incapacitate at least two of them she could get away, too. It was a tactical error, because while she focused on Stringy, Tiny managed to move out of range, circling around like a pouncing tiger. Raylene pivoted to fend off Tiny, tripped over the mounting block, and went down with a hard thud, nearly knocking the wind out of her. The pitchfork went flying and suddenly there was a pistol pointed at her head. Where had that come from?
“Get up,” Ferret said as Stringy ran outside.
Raylene slowly rose, trying to catch her breath.
“She’s gone.” Stringy came in and threw Raylene against the barn stall. “You stupid bitch.”
“What do you mean she’s gone?” Tiny said. “She’s probably hiding in the trees. Go out there and look again.”
Stringy went to do Tiny’s bidding, leaving absolutely no doubt in Raylene’s mind that she was the boss of this rag-tag operation.
“By now she’s called the police,” Raylene said, hoping upon hope it was true. “You better leave before they get here.”
Tiny backhanded her again, and this time Raylene’s lip started to bleed.
“We’ve got to go.” Tiny took the gun from Ferret and poked the muzzle in Raylene’s gut. “You’re coming with us.”
Apparently, Stringy also realized that with Harper gone they were in deep shit, because he rushed into the barn, frantic. “She’s nowhere, man. We’ve got to move out.”
“We’ll take her truck.” Tiny waved the gun at Raylene, motioning for her to lead the way.
They got outside and Tiny held out her hand for the keys.
“I don’t have them,” Raylene said. They were in the purse Tiny threw at her but she was trying to stall, knowing that getting in the truck with them would be the kiss of death.
Tiny nudged her head at Stringy. “Find them in the barn.”
“Are you like her man slave?” Raylene asked, trying to create a division.
She got a sharp elbow in her side from Tiny. “Shut your stupid blond mouth.” Tiny turned to Stringy. “Go!”
Stringy trotted off and returned a few seconds later with Raylene’s fob.
“Get in the passenger seat.” Tiny aimed the gun at Raylene’s head. “You two ride in the bed and keep down.”
It was illegal to ride in the open bed of a pickup, and Raylene’s only hope was that Rhys or one of Nugget PD’s other cops would pull them over and she could scream the truck down. But the likelihood of that happening was next to nil. She presumed Tiny wouldn’t be driving Raylene’s truck down Main Street or taking any of the other major roads.
Tiny got in the driver’s seat, headed south past the turnoff to Raylene’s property, and hung a left on a winding county access road. Raylene didn’t think it had an official name, but everyone up here called it Dover Trail. It was a rarely used byway to Lake Davis; it usually washed out in the winter from rain, snow, and mudslides. There was nothing up here, as far as she knew. Maybe a few deserted trailers and a couple of fishing cabins.
Gabe would never think to look for her here, and the sad truth was the people who might wouldn’t care that she was missing. As soon as Tiny and company figured out that the map to Levi’s Gold was a useless piece of crap, they’d kill her and bury her body in the woods.
“How’d you know about the map?” she asked Tiny, who had one eye on the rearview.
“Did I ask you to talk? No. So shut the hell up.”
Raylene noted the outline of the gun in Tiny’s ratty pocket—the pocket next to the driver’s door. Her only hope was to make Tiny crash and, in the confusion, grab it. But before she could devise a workable plan, Tiny pulled off onto a dirt road that wound through the forest. Raylene had never seen it before. The road—you couldn’t even call it that—was in worse shape than Dover Trail, rutted so badly even her all-wheel drive bounced and hurled until Raylene thought her truck axles would break.
“Where are we going?”
Tiny’s fist connected with Raylene’s cheek so fast Raylene didn’t see it coming. “What did I tell you about talking?”
The woman was really starting to piss Raylene off. But her face throbbed so hard she kept her mouth shut. Tiny drove about a mile more, then skidded to a halt in front of a dense thicket of overgrown brambles. Other than that, there was nothing there but trees. The two men jumped down from the truck and the gun appeared in Tiny’s hand again.
“Get out.”
