Robin in the Hood (Robbin' Hearts Series Book 1) by Diane J. Reed Read Free Book Online Page B

hanging along a kind of trip wire near the door. It shook violently.
    “C’mon!” The little boy grabbed my hand. “We gotta go. Cops!”
    “Operation Groundhog,” Granny sighed, like she was used to it. She shot a glance at the old trunk in her wagon. “Better follow Dooley quick, while I distract ’em. Unless you feel like bein’ arrested tonight.”
    “A-Arrested?” The word got caught in my throat.
    “Hurry, before it’s too late!” Dooley urged, tugging me now with both hands towards the trunk. He threw open the lid.
    Inside, I saw faded quilts, which Dooley promptly pushed aside, and then . . . stairs?
    I shook my head for a second to make sure I wasn’t seeing things.
    The wooden steps led down to a well-lit room, with a sofa and a kitchenette and everything, like someone had managed to bury a trailer underground.
    “Git a move on!” Dooley cried, scampering down the steps ahead of me.
    I blinked hard, then carefully negotiated my way behind Dooley, allowing the trunk lid to close after me with a thud. When I reached the bottom, I saw puzzles and picture books scattered on the sofa, the kind meant for a child around six years old, which I imagined the boy to be.
    “These are mine,” Dooley glowed. “Creek brung ’em for me.”
    “Creek,” I tested out the word on my lips, pretty certain we were both talking about Stalker Guy, so I decided to fish a little. “He must be . . . your, um—”
    “Brother!” the boy piped up, clearly proud of him. “Wanna see the truck he got me?”
    He settled on the couch and picked up a shiny firetruck that lit up like Christmas and squirted water from a hose at me with the mere touch of a finger. I rolled my eyes. If I hadn’t been damp already, I would’ve been thoroughly annoyed. Before he could press a button for the siren, I held up my hand.
    “Sh, Dooley,” I said in my loudest whisper. “I think somebody’s with Granny now.”
    Sure enough, above us I could hear the murmur of men’s voices in low, demanding tones, like maybe they were questioning her. Then it fell quiet for a minute, until there was a loud thump and rattle, as though someone had pounded on her table.
    “No siree!” I heard Granny’s voice boom over our heads. “I ain’t seen no such folk at all ’round here. If you wanna find a loose lawyer, though, I expect you oughta check Rhonda’s strip joint up the road. She attracts ’em like flies.”
    Holy Saints in Heaven, it suddenly hit me that Granny Tinker was covering for me and my dad. What, out of the goodness of her heart? Right away, my thoughts turned to my father. The poor guy was all alone, half paralyzed, and he didn’t even know where I was! What if some cop had managed to find our trailer?
    At that moment, a small, warm hand slipped onto mine.
    “It’s okay,” Dooley said, giving me a squeeze. “They cain’t hear nothin’ down here. And Creek’s got everything taken care of.”
    Near as I could tell, his sweet, blue eyes seemed incapable of lying.
    “Just like those candles out in the meadow tonight. Creek let me help set ’em up, you know. So you could find yer way home. Warn’t they pretty? Don’t worry, he’ll treat yer Pa right.”
    “M-My dad?” I sputtered, aghast that Creek might be anywhere within twenty feet of my father.
    “C’mon, I’ll show ya.”
    With a tug, Dooley led me through the trailer to a back room that was piled to the rafters with canned goods and boxes, like a warehouse. On a top shelf that rimmed the ceiling was a long row of . . . wigs? Black, red, blonde, silver—one in every shape, color, and style.
    “Brandi started chemo a while back,” Dooley said, his big eyes registering my surprise. “She cried and cried when she went bald, so Creek brung her these. They look real nice on her. And Lorraine’s downright crazy about Albers’ grits.” He pointed to a large, red and white case on the floor. “She makes ’em for everybody—even the Attack Geese. I like her