Read Online Live Bait by P. J. Tracy - Free Book Online Page B

on FLEE. Up until the day Annie had taken off for Arizona last week, he’d had Grace, Annie, and Roadrunner in his house all day every day for almost six months, and now he was pushing to make the arrangement permanent. Even after everyone left in the evening, the scents and sounds of all of them seemed to linger in the big old house, making it feel as though a family lived there, and Harley liked the feeling.
    Tonight he and Roadrunner were in the carriage house – a two-story marvel with a cobblestone floor and tongue-and-groove oak paneling that ran up the walls into the arches of the cathedral ceiling. There were crystal chandeliers in here, too, which Roadrunner found ridiculously excessive. Besides, he missed the horse stalls and second-floor grooms’ apartments that had been in here when Harley bought the place.
    Right now the enormous space that had once housed carriages, cutters, and the animals to pull them, was home to a very different kind of horsepower. The RV had been delivered today, custom work finally completed. It was a silver-skinned, tinted-glass behemoth, and it just looked wrong in this place.
    ‘It looks like a bus.’ Roadrunner was standing in front of the vehicle, spider arms akimbo, his eyes almost level with the vast expanse of the windshield, which was six and a half feet off the ground. He’d ridden his old ten-speed over from Minneapolis, just for the extra workout, and was wearing one of the Lycra biking suits he wore every single day – a black one tonight, because he was anticipating dirty work.
    ‘It is not a bus. Do not call it a bus. Technically, it is a luxury motor coach, and her name is Chariot.’
    Roadrunner rolled his eyes. ‘Why do you have to name inanimate objects all the time? I hate that. Everything from your house to your dick.’
    ‘My dick is not inanimate.’
    ‘Sez you. If you’re going to spend all your free time thinking up names, think up a new one for the company, why don’t you.’
    ‘I’ve been racking my brain over that one for six months. How do you rename Monkeewrench? It’s like . . . sacrilege, or something.’
    ‘Yeah, I know. Like renaming a ten-year-old kid.’
    ‘Exactly.’
    ‘But we have to do it.’
    ‘I guess.’
    None of them were happy about changing the company name. They’d been Monkeewrench for over ten years now, and the moniker had become part of their identities.
    ‘Gecko,’ Roadrunner said abruptly.
    ‘Was that a sneeze?’
    ‘Gecko. We should call it Gecko, Incorporated.’
    Harley’s mouth made a circle of disbelief in the black frame of his beard. ‘Are you out of your friggin’ mind? It’s a goddamned lizard.’
    Roadrunner shrugged. ‘It continues the animal theme. I think it’s good.’
    Harley opened the big hydraulic door and stomped up the steps in disgust. ‘Yeah, well if that’s the direction you’re going, then I think we should just name it after you and call it Dipshit.’
    Roadrunner pouted up the stairs after him, but quickly forgot about his wounded pride the minute he stepped inside the plush interior and took a look around. Thick, buttery soft carpets covered the floor, overstuffed down sofas huddled around a gleaming wooden table like silk-covered marshmallows, the spacious kitchen had granite countertops and sparkling chrome fixtures, and there was polished teak everywhere.
    Harley folded his arms across his massive chest, a size extra-large smile plastered across his face. ‘So what do you think, little buddy? Looks more like Buckingham Palace than something with wheels, huh?’
    Roadrunner’s eyes were as wide as a kid’s on Christmas morning. ‘Wow, this is awesome. I really like all the wood.’
    Harley shrugged modestly. ‘I was sort of going for a yacht look without all the nautical crap. Come on, I’ll show you the rest. We haven’t gotten to the best part.’
    Roadrunner followed him down the length of the RV, stopping briefly to marvel at a large bathroom complete with a