Run to Me by Diane Hester Page A

not have.
    He checked Nolan. The man was still weaving but getting closer. If a car came along, or he recovered enough to start running . . .
    Zack turned back. A round bit of steel, like the end of a trumpet, stuck outfrom the bottom of the truck. He climbed up onto it and grabbed a handle, heaved with all his weight and pulled.
    The door creaked open, nearly pushing him off his perch. He let it swing past him, then reached his hand down to the others.
    ‘Corey first. Reece, push him up to me.’
    As he heaved Corey up, Zack threw an anxious glance at the shop. The truck stood just to the left of the entrance,clearly visible to anyone inside.
If
they happened to be looking that way. He prayed the truck was far enough to the side that no one would notice them.
    With Corey safely inside the truck, Zack climbed in after him. But even as he reached down to give Reece a hand, the shop doors opened and a man came out.
    Zack held his breath. The man’s interest in his wallet was all that was keeping him fromspotting the boys as he strode towards the truck. The instant he disappeared around the front of it, Zack yanked Reece up into the hold.
    His relief was short-lived. Nolan had spotted the driver as well and had broken into a shambling jog. ‘Hey! Wait! Don’t go! Hey!’
    For a moment, Zack felt a crushing defeat. Then the engine roared and he realised the sound of its idling had been enough todrownout Nolan’s shouts. But would the driver see him when he checked in his mirror?
    Again Zack braced. The truck started forward. The back door swung towards him and he quickly grabbed it.
    Nolan was still shambling along the shoulder, waving his arms, shouting after them. But those massive oak trees that had posed such a threat now cloaked the man in heavy shade. He was no more than a ripple ina sea of shadow.
    The truck commenced its slow acceleration. Closing the door, Zack smiled and flipped Nolan the bird.

Chapter 10
    Whistling a verse of ‘Downeaster Alexa’, Dr Chase Hadley set his last patient’s file on the desk and picked up his jacket from the chair beside it.
    ‘Someone’s in a good mood,’ Elaine commented, her fingers flying over her keyboard.
    ‘Had a good day. What about you?’
    She shot him a look over the top of her glasses.
    ‘Sorry, you’re still converting those files. I guess that’s no picnic.’

    ‘It’s not your fault. If Doctor Muir hadn’t been such a fossil we’d have kept our records on computer to begin with.’
    ‘Well, don’t stick with it too long, will you? You’re bankrupting me with all this overtime.’ He shoved his arm through the sleeve of his jacket and spied the carving he’d set on the cabinet.
    Smiling, he picked it up. ‘Elaine, did Shyler . . . Did Ms O’Neil give you her contactdetails?’
    ‘No. Why?’
    He turned to blink at her. ‘She said she was going to.’
    ‘Sorry, haven’t seen them. I was getting a coffee when she came out of your room, but she didn’t leave them on my desk.’
    He frowned at the carving then pushed back a sense of disquiet. ‘Guess she forgot again.’
    ‘She ran past me as I came out of the kitchen. Flew out the back door like the devil was chasing her.’
    ‘Must have been in a hurry. I’m sure she’ll give them to you next time she comes.’ He turned, about to wish her goodnight, but something in her silence made him step back. ‘You don’t think she will.’
    ‘Give us her details? Doesn’t seem likely. If she wouldn’t give them to Doctor Muir –’
    ‘Wouldn’t? She told me she’d been moving back then and didn’t know which address to give.’
    Elaine arched abrow. ‘Her last two visits were four months apart. A bit long to have no address, don’t you think?’
    Ten minutes later, as he pushed through the door of old Bill Ramsey’s general store, Chase was still pondering Elaine’s remarks. Her words had rekindled his earlier concerns – ones he’d dismissed as products of his own over-sensitive radar