Stolen Honey Read Online Free

not if Leroy got him out of there as he’d promised.
    “You will help him back,” she reminded Leroy. Not that she wanted to see Shep again—she was disgusted with him now. He’d been trying to rape her, hadn’t he? If she hadn’t fought back, if he hadn’t been too drunk . . . She shuddered. Still, she didn’t want him hurt. She should have realized he would expect something from her. Boys did. That’s what Emily said, Emily had had more experience with boys than Donna. Donna’s mother had home-schooled her until her junior year in high school. She waited for Leroy’s answer before she opened her door. She was still embarrassed—how much had he seen, anyway?
    “I said I would, didn’t I?” said Leroy. “I said I’d take care of him. And I will.”
     

Chapter Two
     
    Gwen was loading the pickup, ready to make the rounds of the Branbury farms where she kept hives, when the police car pulled up behind, blocking her exit. She knew who it was and she didn’t want to see him right now. She loaded in her record book, the smoker, gloves and bee veil, the sugar syrup, a few extra boards to put under hives that might need them, and then climbed into the driver’s seat. “Olen,” she shouted at the lanky, gray-haired man in the white car, “I can’t talk now, I’ve work to do. Mert will give you a cup of coffee. He likes company while he works.”
    She was usually glad to see Olen Ashley, but now she was busy. He was a local cop, a friend of her father’s. As a child she’d called him Uncle Olen, but when she grew older he became more of a big brother. In her last year of high school she grew aware that he had more interest in her than a brother might have, and for a few years she was rather pleased with his attentions, the presents he’d bring her. But six months into the state university she’d met Russell while she was doing a history paper on the Abenaki, and Olen took second place in her affections.
    Shortly after that she and Russell married, and so did Olen. But two years later he was childless and divorced; he needed Gwen’s ear, her advice. At least he kept his feelings in check, and for her sake he more or less tolerated Russell’s activism. Although he’d told Russell point-blank that if he caught him doing something illegal he’d have to bring him in. They both understood that. It was getting to be sort of a cat-and-mouse game.
    “It’s not coffee I’m looking for,” Olen said, sounding gruff, more like the police lieutenant he was and less the family friend, “it’s a missing person.” He leaned his arms on the cab of her pickup. His face looked huge and flushed in the window.
    For a moment Gwen was worried. She counted mentally:
    Donna was home and in bed after a late night. Brownie, too, was in bed; it was Sunday, his sleep-in day. Russell’s dad was in his workroom, surrounded by tangles and twists of split wood. Leroy was beside her in the pickup, staring straight ahead as though he didn’t realize a policeman was present. His left leg, though, was jiggling a little from nerves.
    “A missing college boy,” Olen went on. “He was last seen driving off with your Donna on a motorcycle.”
    Now Gwen’s stomach was doing twists and turns. A motorcycle? But it was Emily Willmarth who’d driven Donna home, wasn’t it?
    “I’d like to speak to the girl, Gwen. Not that she’s under any kind of suspicion.” He waved his arms, smiled a little. “But she was the last person to see the boy. He hasn’t been back to his bed in the fraternity.”
    “Well, he’s not here. Donna came in at ten of one from a dance. I know, I called out to her, I looked at the clock. Leroy knows. He was still up, weren’t you, Leroy?”
    Leroy jerked his head about, his mouth slightly open, as though suddenly aware that there was a police officer nearby. “Yeah. She went in the house then.”
    “You see,” Olen said, still leaning his elbows on the open truck window, “his parents were coming