On the Run by Lorena McCourtney

Author:Lorena McCourtney
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: ebook, book
Publisher: Revell
Published: 2005-12-31T18:30:00+00:00

I’d already decided to drive into Dulcy for church the next morning, but I didn’t mention it to Abilene until we were eating breakfast in the big house. Considering our encouraging discussion under the stars, I hoped she’d come along. But she said she was going for a hike.

“A hike?” I repeated, instantly alarmed. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”

“I never did hear anything more last night, but I still think I heard something—”

“All the more reason not to go prowling in the woods,” I said.

“I want to check it out. I could take a gun,” she added. “Mikki left a couple of them.”

I didn’t think toting a gun was any improvement on the hike idea itself, and, as it turned out, a gun wouldn’t have done much good anyway because we couldn’t find a bullet of any size or kind anywhere. Which made me think ammunition must have been what was in some of those heavy boxes we loaded into the trailer. A distinct relief, I decided. Bullets were what made guns dangerous.

“I’ll take a paintball gun, then,” Abilene decided. “They look pretty realistic.”

“Murderers tend to be able to tell real guns from phonies,” I pointed out. “And what do you do when he starts shooting bullets and all you have is paintballs?”

“According to the authorities, there hasn’t been any murder. Ergo . . . that’s a word I found in some books I read, and I kind of like it, don’t you? Ergo, ergo. Anyway, ergo, no murderer.”

Ergo or not, I wasn’t convinced hiking out in the woods was a good idea. Nor was I totally persuaded there wasn’t a murderer. “Somebody left that bare footprint,” I pointed out. “And we’ve seen movement out there in the woods and you heard something last night—”

“Probably just a deer.”

“I hit something with a paintball that I’m sure wasn’t a deer.”

But by then I was mostly talking to myself because Abilene was at a kitchen drawer picking up the shed keys Frank had left there.

“See you later,” she called from the door. “Don’t worry. Say a prayer for me if you want to.”

I did exactly that, both then and later in church. I was disappointed she didn’t come. But these things take time, don’t they, Lord?

It was a good service, with a strong message centered on Romans 8 and friendly people talking to me both before and afterwards, including a big welcoming hug from Margaret Rau. She was appalled by the Northcutts’ deaths and seemed concerned when I said I was staying on for a while as a caretaker.

“All alone?” Her tanned forehead creased into worry lines. “It’s so isolated out there.”

“There’s another caretaker. I won’t be there alone.” I didn’t elaborate. I doubted hearing that the other caretaker was a young stray I’d picked up would relieve Margaret’s concerns.

“Good. I’m glad to hear that. Has that strange Ute guy ever showed up out there again?”

“No. Why?”

“Someone said they saw him over in Horton a couple days ago.”

“I can’t think of any reason he’d come to the house.

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