He Can Fall (She Can... #4.5)(2)

At the curb, Dennis idled the stolen Buick. Win opened the rear door and put the girl in the back between him and Lincoln. She got in without a word, hunching over and hugging herself against the cold.

Carl jumped into the passenger seat and pointed toward the windshield with an urgent finger. “Go.”

Dennis made a calm exit from the lot, turned onto the highway, and headed north. Carl rubbed the center of his chest, where it felt like a sedan was parked. Once they switched to their own anonymous vehicle, Carl would be able to breathe.

Dennis jerked a thumb over the seat. “What’s she doing here?”

“Change of plans.” Carl stashed the sawed-off shotgun under his legs. “She’s coming with us.”

Dennis turned off the highway. “Why?”

“Win wanted her to come along.” Carl bit back his temper and the urge to point the shotgun over the seat and blow Win through the rear window. The kid had served his purpose. Carl had had enough of his erratic behavior.

“He also shot the store manager,” Lincoln added from the back.

Dennis sighed and adjusted the rearview mirror to look at his nephew. “Win, we talked about this. It’s important to follow the plan.” Disappointment weighted his voice. “We don’t need complications. We need cash.”

Win crossed his arms and sulked. “The manager was going for the panic button.”

Dennis glanced at Carl. He shook his head, and Dennis sighed. “Well, what do we do now? We can forget the next job.” They’d planned a series of small holdups, spread out in time and distance, nothing ambitious enough to attract interstate law enforcement attention. “Should we head for the border? We could be in Canada in a couple of hours.”

The Canadian border went three-quarters of the way around the state of Maine. Six hundred miles of opportunity knocked. Carl considered. “No. The state troopers will assume we’ll head for Canada or go south. We need to go in the least likely direction.”

“OK. West it is then.” Dennis slowed and turned off the highway onto a narrow, unplowed road. Packed snow crunched under the tires. “Nothing west of here but mountains, snow, and trees.”

Carl wanted to put a couple of state lines between them and the murder. Crossing jurisdictions was always prudent when evading the law.

Dennis parked behind a stand of evergreens, next to the plain gray minivan that would blend anywhere. The van had compartments built into the floorboards. Intended for soccer balls and juice boxes, the concealed storage was excellent for hiding weapons.

They changed vehicles with a minimum of fuss. They all knew the drill. Dennis, Lincoln, and Carl had all done time and didn’t want to repeat the experience. Dennis was still on parole. Win had spent his teenage years as a guest of the state and had been set loose upon the world when he’d reached adulthood. They’d all worn gloves from the time they’d stolen the Buick until now. None of their fingerprints had ever graced its interior.

They assumed their positions in the minivan. Carl glanced into the back. Next to Win, the girl shivered. The chattering of her teeth was the only sound she’d made. No complaining. Still, once they were safe, the girl would have to go. In fact, when Carl did make his getaway, he sure as hell wasn’t taking Dennis’s crazy-ass nephew with him, which meant that Dennis would have to be left behind. Lincoln was more stable, but his company wasn’t necessary either. Carl would have better luck on his own. Besides, the authorities would be looking for four men. Might be easier to disappear if they split up.

“If we drive all night, we can be in New York State by morning.” Dennis took the ramp onto the interstate. He turned on the stereo and found a local news station. “We’ll lie low for a couple of weeks. It’ll be all right.”

Carl scrubbed a hand down his face. “We took out the cameras and didn’t leave prints.”

No one spoke for the next quarter of an hour. Carl listened to the news with one ear and fished a roll of antacids from the glove compartment.

“Using mug shots, a customer in the parking lot of the store identified two of the armed men who robbed River Liquors, murdered the night manager, and took the female clerk hostage as Carl Snyder and Winner Young.” Carl’s ulcer burned as the reporter supplied the listening public with accurate descriptions of both men. Obviously, one of those cars in the parking lot hadn’t been empty.

Carl and Dennis exchanged looks. Yeah. Now they were really screwed. Where could they hide? There was an eyewitness to their armed robbery and murder.

“Now what?” Carl asked. “Our mug shots are probably all over the fucking TV and Internet. Every motel clerk in the Northeast will be looking for us.”

“I think you overestimate the staff at the type of establishment we tend to frequent.” In the orange neon glow of the dashboard light, Dennis’s face split in a creepy smile. “I have an idea. Focus on the plan. No more deviations. Everything’ll be all right.”

Unease rumbled in Carl’s gut. That’s exactly what he’d said about the robbery.





CHAPTER TWO

Sean turned the SUV into the private drive. He took his wife’s hand, intertwined their fingers, and kissed her knuckles. “It’s nice to get away. You’re sure you don’t mind that this is a working trip?”

At the end of a tree-lined drive, the newly renovated luxury resort and spa, The Hideaway, sat on a wooded slope. Fifteen miles from its nearest neighbor, the small inn was exclusive, luxurious, and isolated. Cedar and glass, the structure blended into the Adirondacks as if it had grown there. Snow coated the trees that flanked the driveway. Behind the building, a frozen private lake sprawled. Moonlight glittered white on the ice. On the opposite side, a few thousand acres of state forest covered the mountainside.