Stolen Away Read Online Free PDF Page A

is,” Eloise agreed. She was wearing a gingham blouse, nipped in at the waist, and a huge white flower pinned behind her ear. “Plus, I bribed him with caffeine.” She handed me a paper cup of iced coffee. “I need your Internet.” Devin’s computer was in his room and his mom wouldn’t let girls up there, even if it was just Eloise or me. Actually,
especially
if it was us. “And backup.”
    I raised both my eyebrows. “More batty old ladies?”
    “Worse.”
    “All right, give me a minute. I need to go lecture Nanna.” We headed toward the apple trees. Both Devin and Eloise worked here during the planting and harvest seasons when there were extra chores to be done. They knew their way around almost as well as I did. The plots of carrots and garlic looked like they might hold on, and there were onions and squash ready to pick.
    We found Nanna at the top of a ladder with a basket. The apples were small but they weren’t buggy. They’d make decent sauce. This was the oldest part of the orchard. The gnarled trees extended gray branches out like an old-fashioned hoop skirt, trailing leaves and fruit.
    “Nanna, Dev and El are here to help me pick apples, so get down from there.”
    She eyed me sharply. “Tell your granddad I can pick apples without his interference.”
    “He’s too busy smoking his cigars out behind the barn.”
    She muttered to herself and climbed down off the ladder. She was still muttering as she stalked away. Devin shook his head. “You totally sold your granddad out.”
    “Hell, yeah, I did. Cigars are right nasty.” I climbed over a fence, using the shortcut to the house. “Let’s go use the computer and then we can come back and fill up some baskets for them.” Eloise was even quieter than usual, chewing on her lower lip. She wasn’t wearing her customary red lipstick. Definitely a sign of impending doom.
    “Did you tell Dev about the acorn thing?” I asked her.
    “Yeah.” Devin was the one to answer. “What is it with you two?”
    “Hey! How is this my fault, exactly?”
    “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But it usually is.”
    “I was busy ogling the hot guy, remember?”
    “When aren’t you?”
    “Practice, practice, practice,” I agreed.
    The farmhouse was painted white with yellow shutters. The inside was cool and dark and smelled like lemons and rosemary. We went upstairs, where I had my own room. It was full of books and posters of Stonehenge and knights in silver armor kneeling before women in velvet dresses. There was a dart board on the back of the door, with a drawing of Henry the Eighth as the target. I was writing a book about him. Devin sprawled on the bed, and Eloise went straight to my desk and booted up my laptop.
    “What are we googling?” I asked idly, putting on some music. The harmonized voices of the Medieval Baebes filled the room.
    “I’m going to have to introduce you to music made in this millennia,” Devin grumbled.
    I ignored him and read over Eloise’s shoulder. “Lucas Richelieu? Is that the cute guy from the ice cream parlor?”
    Eloise nodded grimly.
    Devin lifted his head. “This is a boy thing? You said it was important.”
    “It is,” she replied quietly. “He showed up at my place last night. On the roof.”
    Devin sat up abruptly. “What? Why didn’t you call me? Did you call the cops? What the hell?” Devin rarely got this worked up over anything.
    “What did your mom say?” I asked.
    “I didn’t tell her,” she admitted.
    We both stared at her. Eloise told her mom everything. They were weird that way. “You didn’t tell her?”
    “I think he was protecting me.”
    “From what?” Devin demanded.
    “Crows.”
    “Crows,” he repeated, baffled.
    I tilted my head. “Yeah, that’s weird, El.”
    “I know. But they were dive-bombing us. Lucas gave me this pendant, and then he jumped off the roof. And vanished.”
    “He vanished.”
    “Stop repeating everything I say,” she muttered, annoyed. She turned