had learned over the years that ski masks don’t offer enough peripheral vision, so he’d already made the eye holes a little bigger. He stayed in his squat and waited. To his left, he could see Dee Dee had moved closer to the periphery. He frowned. She should know better and stay back. But that was Dee Dee.
Gorse was coming at him from the right. Dee Dee was on the left. There was no chance he would spot her before the bullets hit him.
She just wanted a better view.
Still, he didn’t like it.
The crunching of feet on gravel made him turn his head toward the side of the building.
It was Damien Gorse.
Perfect.
Now Ash just needed to time the strike, but really there was plenty of room for error, especially on the late side. Arrive too early and maybe Gorse could run toward the road or back into the shop, though that was unlikely. Arrive too late and it meant that Gorse was in his car, but glass doesn’t stop bullets.
No matter. His timing was perfect.
Gorse stuck out a hand holding the car remote. Ash heard the familiar beep-beep as the car unlocked. He waited until Damien Gorse arrived at his back bumper. Ash stood up straight and rush-walked toward him. Don’t run. Running will throw off your aim.
Gorse’s hand was just reaching out for the car door handle when he spotted Ash. He turned toward him, a questioning look on his face. Ash raised the weapon and fired two shots into Gorse’s chest. The sound was louder than Ash had anticipated, though that wasn’t really a big deal. Gorse’s body fell against the car. For a second the car seemed to hold him up before he slid down the door onto the gravel.
As Ash hurried toward the still body, he spotted Dee Dee, thanks to his peripheral vision, moving to her right so she could get a better view of the dead body. He had no time for that. He bent down, made sure Gorse was dead, and then rifled through the man’s pockets. He took out the wallet. Gorse also wore a Tag Heuer watch. He took that too.
Dee Dee moved closer.
“Will you get back?” he snapped.
He started to rise, but then he saw the look on Dee Dee’s face.
She was staring over his shoulder. Ash felt his stomach drop.
“Ash?” she said.
Then she gestured with her chin.
Ash spun. There, next to the green dumpster, a man stood holding a garbage bag.
The man—no, more likely a teen, a freaking kid for crying out loud—must have exited out the back of the store to throw out the trash. He still held the bag up in the air, as though he’d stopped in mid-toss, frozen by what he’d witnessed.
The kid just stared at Ash, who was wearing a ski mask.
And he stared at Dee Dee, who wasn’t wearing one.
Shit, Ash thought.
No choice. He aimed his gun and fired, but the kid was on the move. He ducked behind the dumpster. Ash started toward him, taking another shot. The kid scrambled on his hands and knees, the bullet flying over his head. The kid ducked back in through the exit door and slammed it shut.
Damn it!
Ash had chosen to use a revolver for this murder, a six-shooter. He’d already fired four shots, leaving him two. He couldn’t waste them. But he couldn’t waste time either. It would take only a few seconds for the kid to call the police or…
An alarm shattered the air.
The sound was so loud Ash stopped for a moment and started to cover his ears with his hands. He spun back toward Dee Dee.
“Go!” Ash shouted.
She nodded, understood the protocol. Take off. He was tempted to do the same—get out of here before the cops came. But the kid had seen Dee Dee’s face. He could describe her.
So the kid had to die.
Ash tried the knob on the back door. It turned. Maybe five seconds had passed since he took the first shot. If there was a gun in the store, it was doubtful the kid would have had time to find it. Ash burst in and looked around.
No sign of the kid.
He’d be hiding.
So how long did Ash have? Not long enough. But.
The mind is a computer, so in the brief time it took him to make a step, a lot of probabilities and outcomes flowed through him. The first one was the most obvious and instinctive: The kid had seen Dee Dee’s face. He could identify her.