Joan Hess - Arly Hanks 06 by Maggody in Manhattan

Author:Maggody in Manhattan [Manhattan, Maggody in]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2012-06-23T01:48:40+00:00

“Kevin!” hissed Dahlia, reaching across the table to shake his shoulder. “Wake up!”

“Wha … ?” He lifted his face, which had been flattened like a pancake from being on the table for more hours than he could count. It was so dark that it took him a minute to think where he was, and why there were fingers biting into his shoulder like a vise. “Is that you, my beloved?”

“Shush up,” she continued, still trying to squeeze some sense into him. “This is our big chance to escape. Marvel’s gone off somewheres. All we got to do is creep out the back door. Come on!”

Kevin rubbed his eyes and tried to spot Marvel somewhere in the shadows of the café. He listened real hard, too, but all he could hear were birds and insects outside and the low rumble of a car or truck way far in the distance. “Where is he right now?” he whispered to his beloved bride.

“I dun told you he’s off somewheres, most likely asleep. We can sit here till dawn trying to guess, or you can get off your runty butt and follow me out the back door so we can go to Niagara Falls.”

Grunting ever so softly, she began to slide out of the booth. Kevin was far from convinced this was the best thing to do, but he wasn’t about to argue with her, not when she’d been through such trials and tribulations these last days, all of them his fault. He wouldn’t have been surprised if she regretted ever marryin’ him. Wouldn’t have blamed her if she did, neither.

Once she’d popped free of the booth, she grabbed his wrist and led him ponderously yet relentlessly through the tables. “You’d think I was taking you to the dentist—instead of risking my own life to save your hide. It’s a good thing one of us has the smarts to do something other than snore.”

“I’m awful sorry about how this honeymoon is—”

“Will you shush up?” Clamping harder on his wrist, she navigated through the gap at the end of the counter, pulling in her elbows to make sure nothing got toppled off, and dragged him into the kitchen. There was enough light from a utility pole for her to make out the back door, and once they got closer, to make out the key in the deadbolt lock.

In that she was steering, Kevin decided he’d better guard the flank and kept his head turned accordingly. There was no Marvel silhouetted in the doorway, his gun raised and his eyes as cold as a killer’s. Encouraged, Kevin tried to report as much to Dahlia, but she shushed him again and busied herself with the key.

The door obligingly opened with nary a squeak. “Once we’re outside, we’ll run over to those trees,” she said in a low voice. “Keep your head down unless you aim to have it blown right off your shoulders and mounted on the wall alongside that buck in the front room. You ready?”

Kevin

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