Alone in the store, Katelyn poured old coffee from six pots into one. She’d heat it up tomorrow. The bell on the door rang as a big guy in a torn jacket and woolen mask walked in. No skin showed but his tattooed hands. He carried a nine millimeter behind his belt buckle.
“Honey, get me them bills out the register.”
Katelyn’s heart beat in her throat. She knew there was $173 and shook as she handed it over.
Back outside, he drove off north in a white F-125.
Katelyn reached for the phone, deciding who to call first.
“Honey, get me them bills out the register.”
Katelyn’s heart beat in her throat. She knew there was $173 and shook as she handed it over.
Back outside, he drove off north in a white F-125.
Katelyn reached for the phone, deciding who to call first.
