Grand Theft Auto 5 North Yankton Novels & Stories

Chances were they were about to go make an unwilling new friend very unhappy. But they were at the point where they couldn't afford to leave any stone unturned. "This is it," Ghost announced from the back seat. Nolan pulled the SUV to the curb. Grant jumped out before the vehicle had come to a complete stop. The notary office was sandwiched between a payday loan and pawn shop. With the lights off it mostly blended into the other two businesses. He planted his hand on his weapon under his coat and pulled the front door open. The sound of a crash had every alarm in his head going off.

Most gutting, neither looked surprised or guilty, either. They'd known. They'd known and had done nothing? Clint stumbled. "What are y'all blathering about?" Nate pulsed livid vibes next to Nakos, sucked in a breath through flared nostrils. "You son of a bitch." The barest hint of ink whirred through the air as his fist met his target. Ass over tea kettle, Clint went down. This time, he didn't get back up. "By the way, Wyoming doesn't have a statute of limitations on rape, asshole." He pointed at Amy's folks. "You don't move. You're all under arrest." He flicked a scornful glare at an unconscious Clint. "And assault. I seem to recall he took a swing at Nakos first. That what you saw, baby?"

"Cane, it’s over. You’re a rogue." "It’s never over," Cane hissed. "I have five million dollars in liquid cash sitting in my safe, North. I need a driver for one night. Just one night. You help me, and I give you fifty thousand dollars in cash, upfront." North went silent. Fifty thousand would go a long way in his life right now. "When?" "Friday," Cane said, looking at the calendar on the wall. "Come to the mansion on Friday. And bring a gun. Just in case."

I scrambled through the file folders I’d brought until I found the copy I’d made of Franklin’s report, remembering what he had told me that morning. “A car. Big one, maybe a truck. Black or dark-colored. Really loud engine.” I stared at the caption, a lump rising in my throat. “Lyles’ Auto Body, Dubois.” I took out my notebook and flipped backwards until I found it. Breaking and Entering, possible grand theft. Lyles Auto Body & Collision. 10/20/85 21:00. The call had come in the day before the murder, but I’d put it off to deal with the Boyd case.

Katy tosses the leaking bag on the car floor and sits down next to the stack of boxes. Winnie slams her door and then jumps in the driver's seat starting the car while I climb into the passenger's seat, not at all sure what we're about to do. The car charges off with a lurch and I'm still buckling my seatbelt by the time we make it out of the storage unit parking lot. "Slow down," Katy directs. "We don't want to get pulled over." "Yes, please slow down. That's the last thing we need," I plead as Winnie reduces her speed and heads to Pelican Bay, each of us pretending we aren't driving around with a bunch of stolen goods. Stolen drug goods.

"We are in a cease-fire zone. But we cannot stay here. He will find a way to manipulate the traffic. A blown tire. A sleeping driver." Cale pulled Elion away from the road's edge. "We need a vehicle," Cale decided. "But we cannot hitchhike. We are invisible to them." "Then we steal one." Elion said it before he thought it. The words tasted metallic. Cale looked at him. Surprise registered on his face—a flicker of the old Cale. "Grand Theft Auto," Cale said. "A felony." "Survivors don't care about felonies." Elion pointed up the road. About a quarter-mile ahead, there was a gravel turnout. A scenic overlook. A single car was parked there—a dusty blue pickup truck. The driver was nowhere in si

It took over an hour before sirens finally tore through the silence of the frozen plain. I was crouched behind a rock, maybe 30 feet from the car, wrapped in a mud-stained parka. My hands wouldn't let go of a nearly dead power bank. Forensics, highway patrol, and local detectives all showed up together. Six people had come out here to the Northwind Trail for the trip. Only one of us was still breathing. The other five were trapped in their seats by seatbelts, bodies bent at impossible angles.