Angel in the Full Moon. Don Easton

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Angel in the Full Moon - Don Easton A Jack Taggart Mystery

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alt="Image"/>ng to get in. She climbed in and made herself comfortable on some pillows.
c opened up half of the rear seat and from her position, H
ng could see out the car windows at an angle looking up.

      “When we get close to the U.S. border, I will tell you and you can just pull on that strap and the seat will close,” said

c.

      H

ng nodded, feeling her body tremble as the final leg of her journey began.

      Street lights and overhead signs passed by quickly as they drove. H

ng saw that they were on a highway marked 99.

      “Up ahead, H

c. “Look! See it?”

      H

c was pointing at. Canada–U.S. Border! This is it! “I see it! I see it!” she said.

      “Pull the seat closed! Quickly!” yelled

c.

      H

ng yanked hard on the strap and the seat closed tightly into position. She was now in complete darkness. She worried that the pounding of her heart could be heard. When she heard the blast of music as the radio was turned up she breathed easier. Mister
c knows what he is doing ...

      

c smiled as he turned off at the 8th Avenue exit, just prior to the U.S. border. He made a couple of more turns and slowed down as he inched his way along in a lineup of cars.

      H

ng could hear little due to the loud music, but she felt the motion of the car as it would slowly pull ahead, stop, pull ahead some more. Her feet touched the plastic bag containing her clothes and it made a rustling sound. She froze, holding her breath, but the car inched forward again.

      

c picked up his coffee at the drive-through window and continued on.

      H

c turned the radio down and yelled back to her, “Don’t open the seat. We’re through, but there are lots of big trucks beside me. I don’t want anyone to look down and see you. Should only be about another twenty minutes.”

      Twenty minutes later, H

c pulled into the garage and she heard the garage door close. The trunk was opened.

      H

c. He was about the same age as her own father, but he was wearing sweat pants and a white T-shirt. H
ng had never seen a man with arms bulging with such big muscles.

      “H

c, “I’d like you to meet ...”

      “Pops,” the big man beside

c said. “Just call me Pops.” He smiled and said, “Here, let me help you out of there. I bet you’re really uncomfortable.”

      Before H

ng could answer, he bent over and lifted her out of the trunk and gently set her down beside him. “Welcome to the States,” he said. “Come, I’ll show you your new home,” he said, opening a door that led into the house. “You must be tired ... and hungry too, I bet!”

      H

c trailed along behind and seldom spoke. To H
ng, the house was huge. There was a large kitchen and a sitting room with a fireplace.

      “How many other families live here?” asked H

ng.

      Pops chuckled and said, “Just us. No other families.”

      H

ng shook her head in amazement, and asked, “Where is Mrs. Pops? Is she here? I have something to give her.”

      “She is not home right now. Her mother is sick and she had to go away for a couple of days.”

      “I am sorry,” said H

ng,

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