Read Online The Spider Thief by Laurence MacNaughton - Free Book Online

we take off. Give the señora ten grand to ransom her family back, a couple more to move them out of town, and we kept the rest. Went to Vegas.”
    “What about the ticket?” Cleo said.
    “It’s for the next week’s drawing.” Ash tried to hide his pride, but failed. “I figured out, when you buy a ticket, you can pick any numbers you want. So I bought a new ticket with the current jackpot numbers. Unless you pay close attention to the date, you don’t notice it.”
    She covered her face with her hands. “Oh, my God. That is so illegal.”
    “Nope. It’s actually a perfectly legal ticket. Just worthless, is all. And what tickles me is that the señora paid off the coyote with his own money.”
    Cleo chuckled, on and off, the rest of the way to her mom’s house.
    Nobody was home. Her mom was in Atlanta, she said, on a consulting job. Ash was just thankful that the driveway was paved, not dirt, because he didn’t want to try to push the Galaxie through mud.
    Lightning flashed, illuminating the pine-covered mountainside. The house hadn’t changed much. With the giant apple tree out front and the white-painted wood porch, it really looked like someone’s parents’ house. Out front, the wagon wheel was still set in the ground, full of overgrown rose bushes. Ash parked beside it.
    Cleo got out of the car and gasped, her breath steaming. Pulling her jacket up over her head, she ran for the front door.
    Ash got out to follow her. The ice-water rain drenched him instantly, plastering his hair down over his eyes, weighing down his clothes. Moolah bolted ahead of him, leaving him to slog alone through the ankle-deep runoff. Hard rain stung his bare arms.
    Cleo stood under the shelter of the front awning, teeth chattering as she sorted through her keys. She got the door open and urged Moolah inside. Ash came in last, just in time for the dog to shake off a cold spray of water. Cleo shut the door, cutting off the noise of the rain and trapping them in lukewarm darkness. She flicked the light switch. Nothing happened.
    “Damn it,” she whispered. Her teeth chattered.
    “Here.” Ash pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her. She clung to him, shivering.
    Then she shrieked and jumped back, making Ash’s heart leap into his throat. Lightning flashed again, revealing Moolah slunk down on his haunches, looking miserable.
    “Your dog has a very cold nose,” she whispered.
    “Well.” He shrugged. “At least you know he’s healthy.”
     
    *
     
    Hours later, they sat by the wood stove in the corner of the living room. It looked like a museum piece on a pedestal, a sculpture in hot black iron. The scent of wood smoke calmed Ash’s nerves, as did the steaming mugs of coffee and the soft glow of candles. “Honestly, you didn’t have to make coffee on the wood stove,” Ash said. “Your mom’s Taster’s Choice would’ve been fine.”
    “I only serve that to my enemies.” Cleo leaned back into the couch across from him, wrapped in a heavy quilt, sipping her coffee.
    “So does that mean you’re not mad at me anymore?”
    She didn’t answer at first. “You could’ve sent a postcard. At any point in the last few years. Even an email. ‘Hey, Cleo, remember me? We used to be totally in love, until I ran off one night without saying goodbye. Just wanted to let you know I’m still alive.’”
    “Ouch.”
    “Yeah, well.” She stared into her coffee. “I did spend a lot of time hating you.”
    “But if you still hated me, you wouldn’t have saved my life on the highway back there.”
    Cleo shrugged. “Don’t read too much into it. It doesn’t mean anything.”
    “Oh, I think it does. And you know it.”
    Her eyes revealed nothing. “I would’ve done it for anyone.”
    “Even cold, heartless me, apparently.”
    “Even you.” She set her mug down. “So what kind of name is Moolah, anyway? African or something?”
    “No. Moolah.” Ash rubbed his fingers together. “You know, dinero, cashola,