Sting Read Free

remained tense as he followed Mickey to their car. They’d left it at the far edge of the parking lot, which was only a fan-shaped patch of crushed oyster shells in front of the tavern.
    Mickey wedged himself into the passenger seat. As subordinate partner on this job, it fell to Shaw to drive. Which was okay by him. He hated riding shotgun. If and when a situation went tits-up, he liked having control of the vehicle.
    He put the key in the ignition, but Mickey said, “Hold on. We’re not going anywhere yet.”
    Shaw’s heart bumped. “Why not?”
    “We’re doing it here.”
    Shaw just looked at him, then, “You joking?”
    “No. Panella said there’s no time like the present.”
    “Hell, there isn’t,” Shaw hissed, gesturing back toward the bar. “We were seen in there.”
    “Which is another reason why Panella said to go ahead.”
    “That doesn’t makes sense.”
    “Makes perfect sense.”
    “Only if you want to get caught. Speaking for myself, I don’t.”
    “So then don’t get caught.” Mickey grunted with the effort of extracting his pistol from the holster lodged between the folds of his belly. “Panella advises against it, too.”
    “Easy for him to say. It’s not his ass that’s exposed, is it?”
    Mickey gave him a sidelong glance. “First time out and you’re going soft on me.”
    “Not soft, old man. Sensible. I don’t see why the fucking hurry.”
    “I explained that.”
    “Yeah, but tomorrow would be soon enough.”
    “Not anymore. Panella has changed his mind. Small town like this, where everybody knows everybody? Word gets around quick that there’s two ‘strangers’ in town.”
    “Okay. So we wait to do it till she goes back to New Orleans.”
    “That could be days. She doesn’t go into the city on a regular basis. Works out of her house here a lot. Anyhow, it’s not our decision to make. Panella says get her done, especially now that we happened to be caught under the same roof as the target.”
    Shaw understood the reasoning, but he still didn’t like it. Not at all.
    Mickey kept talking. “Like you, Panella is scared that maybe her showing up here tonight isn’t a coincidence.”
    “That’s what I said , but I was only mouthing off. Her coming here has gotta be a fluke. There’s no way she could know about us.”
    “Well, whatever, Panella said to do it now, so…” For punctuation, Mickey used the slide of his 9mm to chamber a bullet.
    Shaw realized two things: His vote didn’t count, and further argument was pointless. “Shit.” He pulled his pistol from its holster and glanced back toward the door with the crackling neon sign above it. “So how do you want to do it?”
    “We wait here till she comes out. If the redneck asshole leaves with her, you pop him. I’ll take care of her.”
    “If she comes out alone?”
    “I’ll do the honors,” Mickey said as he worked his hands into latex gloves. He passed a pair to Shaw. “You take her purse. Panella says to make it look like a robbery gone bad. A random crime.”
    “With no connection to either him or her brother.”
    “With no connection to anything.”
    Shaw scoffed. “Like anybody will believe that.”
    Mickey chuckled. “Not your problem who believes what. You’ll be far and away, enjoying your half of two hundred grand.”
    “That’ll buy a nice boat.”
    “That’ll buy nice pussy.”
    “Your mind’s in the gutter, Mickey.”
    He chuckled again. “Where it feels right at home.”
    Noticing motion from the corner of his eye, Shaw took another look through the rear window. “Here she comes.”
    “By herself?”
    Shaw waited to answer until the door had closed behind Jordie Bennett and no one followed her out. “Yep.”
    Since the building didn’t have any exterior lighting, the parking lot was almost in complete darkness. A pale, slender moon was obscured by the moss-bearded branches of an oak that extended across three-quarters of the lot. There were no approaching headlights