The Falling Away by Hines

Author:Hines
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: ebook, book
Publisher: Thomas Nelson Inc.
Published: 2010-09-24T04:00:00+00:00

29

It hadn’t been difficult for Quinn to shake the snowplow driver. When they reached Eddie’s Corner—so named, she’d always assumed, because the guy who started the lone fuel station/convenience store here years ago had been named Eddie—the snowplow driver expressed surprise at not seeing vehicles from the highway patrol or other law enforcement agencies.

She’d been prepared for that. “They probably already made the bust,” she said. “I bet they were here fifteen minutes ahead of us, and they’re probably on their way to Billings to book ’em on federal charges.”

The driver eyed her suspiciously as he brought the snowplow to a stop on the east side of the service station, put it in park, and left it idling. “Maybe I should call in now, though,” he said. “Let them know where I’m at, find out if they’ve heard anything.”

“Good idea,” she said, opening the door. “I gotta use the facilities; be right back.”

He had nodded as he picked up his two-way. She shut the passenger door and walked to the front of the building, continued past the front entrance without hesitating, and went to the large parking lot on the west side of the building, where most of the people making a pit stop at Eddie’s Corner parked. She knew, even before reaching the other side of the building, that she would find a car with the keys in it; Montanans, as a rule, weren’t worried about people stealing their cars, and at a place such as this, when they were just running inside for a pack of cigarettes or a quick bathroom break, many of them were unlikely to take the keys and lock their vehicles.

She did even better than that. Parked in the front row, running, was a silver Pontiac Grand Am. When it snowed and blowed, many folks played even faster and looser with their vehicles; they left their cars running while they went inside.

Mr. Silver Pontiac Grand Am had obviously made this mistake. Quinn slid into the front seat and backed out without hesitating. The question was: Where was Dylan? Headed to Billings? Maybe, maybe. An injured animal often returns to its den when hunted by a predator.

She held on to that hope as she pointed the Grand Am south.

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