Alez Kava - One False Move

"Is he still hanging around the courthouse?"

"No, the produce department here at HyVee."

The elderly woman in line behind Grace perused the tabloid magazines, but Grace knew from the woman's frown and sideway glances that she was listening to her conversation. Grace turned her back to her and kept an eye on Emily, who was now instructing the teenage boy how to bag groceries.

"Could it be a coincidence?"

"You think he just happens to shop at the same fucking store I do?"

Grace ignored the cashier's admonishing look. She didn't care what some twenty-year-old college kid thought. She had more important things to worry about. Like the fact that a man she had prosecuted five years ago for murder, a man who she had argued should be sentenced to death, was now free. Free and shopping at the grocery store she just happened to frequent.

Grace scanned the store again, startled when she heard Pakula. She'd forgotten she was still on her cell phone. "Grace, you okay? You want I can send a black and white to follow you home."

"What good would that do? I can't have a black and white with me everywhere I go. Besides, Barnett's not the first asshole to think he can scare me. And I'm not about to give him the pleasure of thinking he can."

"Barnett's not any old asshole," Pakula reminded her.

She saw Barnett, two check-out lanes over. He looked up, and as their eyes met, instead of looking away, he smiled again. That's when she heard Pakula say, "He's just gotten away with murder. Don't think for a minute that son of a bitch isn't thinking he's invincible right about now."

4:00 p.m. Interstate 80

Melanie followed every one of Jared's directions. She wasn't about to tell him to save his breath; she knew where she was going. She didn't say anything. There was something about his mood, something about his eyes, that made her keep her mouth shut and just drive.

She kept the A/C on high, drowning out Charlie's rendition of "Gilligan's Island." Charlie had snarfed down his sandwich before they exited Interstate 80. Now he was working on the chips and downing a second Coke.

She glanced at Jared in the rearview mirror. He had insisted on sitting in the back seat by himself. At first she thought it was so he could sit directly behind her and boss her around, issuing directions. But he had already shown them where the bank was this morning. There was no need for directions.

His eyes met hers in the mirror and she quickly looked away, trying to cover her reaction by checking the car coming up alongside her. He was too calm, she decided. The sky had continued to grow darker. In the distance she could see a hint of lightning. The pole lights along the highway had begun to come on again as they had earlier in the day when they were sitting in the Cracker Barrel. Now she wished they were back there, talking big and pretending this was just a job they'd tackle someday. Pretending. That's all.

Jared sat in the back seat, cool and calm like it was a game of pretend, while Melanie's palms were slick with sweat. Her T-shirt stuck to her back, even with the A/C blowing at her. She couldn't keep her eyes from darting back and forth. Her fingers fidgeted. A couple times she caught herself biting down on her lower lip.

Even Charlie's eating, she knew, was a nervous response, an attempt to keep his brain and stomach distracted. But Jared didn't seem the least bit nervous. He watched out the window, not a bead of sweat on his upper lip or forehead. Whatever his secret was for staying so composed, Melanie knew he wouldn't be sharing it anytime soon.

She pulled off Highway 50 and turned into the bank's parking lot.

"Park up there alongside the west end of the lot, away from the building," Jared said, now sitting so far forward she could feel his hot breath on the back of her bare neck.

There were no cars on this side of the building and the lot backed onto an empty area of overgrown grass. Across the street was a car dealership, a line of brand-new Ford pickups with shiny headlights staring at them. In the distance Melanie could see McDonald's golden arches. She could still hear the hum of the interstate traffic. Yet, as she parked the car, she noticed she could no longer see the cars on Highway 50. Although it hardly mattered. The bank's windows were tinted. She was only fifty yards away and she couldn't see inside.

Jared had certainly done his homework. This morning she had been impressed when he pointed out that the bank was less than a mile inside Douglas County. They would head south and immediately cross into Sarpy County. He seemed convinced that law enforcement officials would squabble over jurisdiction, if and when they came after them. That was one of the reasons he said he chose this particular bank. And it was reason enough for Melanie to believe that Jared might actually be able to pull this off.

Jared was now fiddling with his wristwatch. Melanie wiped the palms of her hands on her jeans, trying to be casual, trying not to draw Charlie's or Jared's attention. She kept the car engine idling with the vents blasting cold air, and she felt a chill. She examined the other cars in the lot. The bank's drive-through lane was empty. The access road was empty. Even across the street at the dealership there was no activity. It almost seemed too quiet. Too perfect. She glanced up and in the rearview mirror saw Jared pull two guns out of his duffel bag.

4:15 p.m.

Jesus, Jared. Where the hell did you get those?"

"Where do you think?"

"You know how I feel about guns."

"That was a long time ago, Mel. Get over it. Besides, what did you think we'd do? Slip them a note and they'd simply hand over a bag of cash?"

Melanie gripped the steering wheel, keeping herself from spinning around to get a better look. Out of the corner of her eye she could see that Charlie sat sideways, his arm slung over the seat back, watching Jared and smiling. He seemed excited to get his hands on one of those guns. Melanie tried to catch his eye, hoping he'd notice her disapproval. But at the moment the boy couldn't notice anything other than the shiny metal Jared was sneaking forward to him over the middle front console.

Charlie took the gun, keeping it low and out of sight but turning it over and over as if it were a new toy.

Melanie wanted to grab it away from him. She wanted to tell Jared to forget it. She wanted to speed away and not give him a choice. Instead, she sat there frozen, continuing to grip the wheel, trying to ignore the trickle of sweat that slid down her back.

"We've never had to use a gun before." She finally found her voice, though it sounded like someone else's, small and weak. But it was something she was proud of. Charlie and she had never used any kind of weapon. Unless you counted the wire clothes hanger Charlie used to pop the locks of Saturn doors.

She checked the rearview mirror. Jared was transferring the contents of his duffel bag to the pockets of his coverall. "We've never had to use a gun before," she repeated, this time a little louder.

"I heard you the first time," her brother said without looking up. "You don't need a gun when you're pulling off piddly little shit jobs."

She wanted to tell him that those piddly little shit jobs had kept her and Charlie off the streets and living quite comfortably for almost ten years. But there was no way she could stand up to Jared with her cheeks burning and her voice shaky. He didn't seem to think they were piddly shit jobs five years ago. She met his eyes again in the rearview mirror, calm, dark eyes. How could he be so calm?

"Remember everything I told you, Charlie?" His eyes never left Melanie's.

"Yup," her son answered so quickly, so confidently that Melanie jerked around to look at him, shocked to find the red kerchief up over the lower part of his face and a black stocking cap pulled down over his forehead. All she could see were his eyes. She stared at him as he shoved the gun into one of the coverall's oversize pockets, treating it as if it were something he handled every day.