Read Online Tag, You're It! by Penny McCall - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Penny McCall
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shaking when she ran them through his hair. No bumps, no blood.
And then she realized he was smiling—although he groaned as she untangled herself from him. The groaning might have had something to do with her knees and elbows. But he still wasn't getting up.
"Where does it hurt?" she asked, kneeling beside him, her hands on his chest "again.
"Lower."
She followed his directions, but the only thing she moved were her eyes. Yeah, there was a distinct swelling south of his zipper. "I thought you were in pain."
"There are all kinds of pain."
She slugged him.
"Ouch," he said, holding his side. "Do you have to keep aiming for my ribs?"
Alex eyed his bulge. "I could think of another target."
"The ribs are fine," Tag said, climbing stiffly to his feet.
Alex got up, too, stepping to the edge of the curb and looking into the empty street. "What was that?"
"Why don't you ask him?"
The same pickup truck came around the corner, backward, slipping and sliding to a stop next to where they stood. It sat in the street, rusted fenders rattling along with the engine's rough idle. The passenger window cranked slowly down.
Tag stepped in front of Alex.
"Not in this century," she said, and stepped up next to him again.
"Is it true?" the man inside the cab wanted to know, craning his head to peer out in their direction.
"Unfortunately, yes," Alex replied.
"Yee haw," he shouted, gunning the truck and leaving them ankle deep in slush and awash in a cloud of noxious exhaust.
"I take it you know who that was?"
"Trankey's brother," Alex said.
"Shit. Was he drunk, too?"
"Gold fever. Same thing." She turned to look at Tag, hands on hips. "But you thought it was our friends from back at the cabin, right? And before you answer, it would be nice if you kept the bullshit content to a minimum."
Tag shrugged. "It wouldn't be the first time they've taken a shot at us."
"It would be the first time it was aimed specifically at me."
"It wasn't aimed at you. This time. What do you think is going to happen when everyone finds out you came to town with me?"
"You're the one with the new information," she reminded him. "I think they're going to drive you crazy and leave me alone."
"Isn't that a little optimistic for you?"
"It's realistic. The people around here know me, and when I tell them I have no idea where the treasure is they'll believe me."
"It might be a good idea for us to stick together."
"That's what got me into this position in the first place," she said, untying Jackass and heading toward the stable at the other end of town.
Tag caught her arm, hauling her to a stop. "You have no idea what you're up against," he said.
"Then maybe you should fill me in."
He thought about that for a minute, but nothing had really changed. He still didn't know enough about her, or the situation, to safely weigh his options and pick a course of action.
"Well?"
Tag let go of her arm.
"I didn't think so," she said. "I'd tell you it's been a pleasure, but…" she spread her hands.
"Yeah," Tag said, catching her drift.
"Good-bye."
"I hope that's not a permanent sentiment," he called after her.
"NICE TO KNOW YOU'RE STILL ALIVE."
"Just barely," Tag said to Mike Kovaleski, his handler at the FBI, adding "pay phone," by way of warning. Not only was it an unsecured line, the pay phone was outside, no booth. Too big a risk that someone would overhear something they shouldn't. "I got dumped out of an airplane in the middle of nowhere, on a woman who stalks mountain lions and talks to horses. The guys on the plane gave me a wad of cash and took everything I had on me including my wallet and phone."
Not that there were a lot of cell towers around here anyway. There wasn't much of anything around here. One vet, one gas station, one feed store, one market—that sold coats, thankfully—and one too many sheriffs. An odd assortment of houses squatted on the narrow, rutted dirt lanes behind the main drag, and quite a few horses were tethered on the west
And then she realized he was smiling—although he groaned as she untangled herself from him. The groaning might have had something to do with her knees and elbows. But he still wasn't getting up.
"Where does it hurt?" she asked, kneeling beside him, her hands on his chest "again.
"Lower."
She followed his directions, but the only thing she moved were her eyes. Yeah, there was a distinct swelling south of his zipper. "I thought you were in pain."
"There are all kinds of pain."
She slugged him.
"Ouch," he said, holding his side. "Do you have to keep aiming for my ribs?"
Alex eyed his bulge. "I could think of another target."
"The ribs are fine," Tag said, climbing stiffly to his feet.
Alex got up, too, stepping to the edge of the curb and looking into the empty street. "What was that?"
"Why don't you ask him?"
The same pickup truck came around the corner, backward, slipping and sliding to a stop next to where they stood. It sat in the street, rusted fenders rattling along with the engine's rough idle. The passenger window cranked slowly down.
Tag stepped in front of Alex.
"Not in this century," she said, and stepped up next to him again.
"Is it true?" the man inside the cab wanted to know, craning his head to peer out in their direction.
"Unfortunately, yes," Alex replied.
"Yee haw," he shouted, gunning the truck and leaving them ankle deep in slush and awash in a cloud of noxious exhaust.
"I take it you know who that was?"
"Trankey's brother," Alex said.
"Shit. Was he drunk, too?"
"Gold fever. Same thing." She turned to look at Tag, hands on hips. "But you thought it was our friends from back at the cabin, right? And before you answer, it would be nice if you kept the bullshit content to a minimum."
Tag shrugged. "It wouldn't be the first time they've taken a shot at us."
"It would be the first time it was aimed specifically at me."
"It wasn't aimed at you. This time. What do you think is going to happen when everyone finds out you came to town with me?"
"You're the one with the new information," she reminded him. "I think they're going to drive you crazy and leave me alone."
"Isn't that a little optimistic for you?"
"It's realistic. The people around here know me, and when I tell them I have no idea where the treasure is they'll believe me."
"It might be a good idea for us to stick together."
"That's what got me into this position in the first place," she said, untying Jackass and heading toward the stable at the other end of town.
Tag caught her arm, hauling her to a stop. "You have no idea what you're up against," he said.
"Then maybe you should fill me in."
He thought about that for a minute, but nothing had really changed. He still didn't know enough about her, or the situation, to safely weigh his options and pick a course of action.
"Well?"
Tag let go of her arm.
"I didn't think so," she said. "I'd tell you it's been a pleasure, but…" she spread her hands.
"Yeah," Tag said, catching her drift.
"Good-bye."
"I hope that's not a permanent sentiment," he called after her.
"NICE TO KNOW YOU'RE STILL ALIVE."
"Just barely," Tag said to Mike Kovaleski, his handler at the FBI, adding "pay phone," by way of warning. Not only was it an unsecured line, the pay phone was outside, no booth. Too big a risk that someone would overhear something they shouldn't. "I got dumped out of an airplane in the middle of nowhere, on a woman who stalks mountain lions and talks to horses. The guys on the plane gave me a wad of cash and took everything I had on me including my wallet and phone."
Not that there were a lot of cell towers around here anyway. There wasn't much of anything around here. One vet, one gas station, one feed store, one market—that sold coats, thankfully—and one too many sheriffs. An odd assortment of houses squatted on the narrow, rutted dirt lanes behind the main drag, and quite a few horses were tethered on the west
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