Jillian Carpenter moved down the street, approaching the Rambler parked just outside of Carl’s Liquor Store.
“What are you doing?” Suzie Oliver asked, sounding a little nervous.
“I wanna look inside,” she said.
“What?” Suzie sounded alarmed now.
“Just a quick look,” Jillian said. “I’m not gonna get in or anything.”
“What if somebody catches you?”
“I’ll tell him we thought it was your uncle’s car.”
Moving up to the driver’s window, Jillian peered inside, cupping her hands for a better view, then crouching down a little to look at the locket dangling from the rearview mirror.
Then Jillian moved to the Rambler’s rear passenger window, staring into the back, before something on the rear windshield caught her attention.
A parking sticker.
“Come on, Jillian, let’s go,” Suzie said. “Somebody’s gonna come.”
Jillian turned, looking at her friend, then headed back and grabbed Suzie’s hand.
“Race you home,” she said, then they broke away from each other and ran.
As they tore past Carl’s, Mikola Zala stepped out of the liquor store, and watched them intently. Taking a last drag off of his cigarette, he tossed it aside and crossed to the Rambler, quickly unlocking it and climbing inside.
This was Anna’s cue to move.
Opening the Honda Civic’s door-the Honda Civic she’d stolen from the Big Mountain parking lot-she got out and crossed the street toward the Rambler.
“Excuse me,” she said, waving her hand at Mikola.
He started the engine, paying her no attention.
“Excuse me,” she said again, and he turned, scowling at her, rolling down his window.
Anna knew she must’ve been a sight, with her wounded shoulder and the gash in her cheek.
But Mikola didn’t seem to notice. “What do you want, woman?”
“You don’t remember me, Mikola?”
He looked surprised. “How do you know my…”
Then the surprise turned to recognition as he looked into her eyes.
“Chavi?”
“That’s right, motherfucker.”
Anna raised her Glock, touching it to his chest. Before he could react, she said, “ Mine.”
Then she pulled the trigger.