Lovers in the Cold by Wallace Stroby

Author:Wallace Stroby [Stroby, Wallace]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Amazon.com
Published: 2011-12-24T00:00:00+00:00

††††

“It’s tomorrow,” Billy said.

Eddie looked at him. The sky was a bright blue, the ground covered with snow, the sun flashing hard off it.

“What’s tomorrow?”

They were walking along the bottom of Cemetery Hill. To their left, traffic droned by on Route 36. Up on the slope to their right, a half dozen kids with sleds took turns riding down the narrow patch of bare hill, laughing, tumbling into the snow, getting up again. Dragging their sleds back up to the top.

“That thing,” Billy said. “It’s all set.”

They crossed over into the cemetery. Billy brushed snow off a headstone, sat down.

“I talked to the guy again last night. He’s on tomorrow, he made sure of it. But they have a security camera in there. We’ll need to make it look real.”

“Camera?”

“Yeah, like TV, you know? Closed circuit. Some stores have them now. They record everything that goes on inside. The old man who owns the place, he won’t be there. Just our guy.”

“You trust him?”

“As far as it goes, yeah. Why not? He gets his share, twenty-five percent off the top. We split the rest, fifty-fifty”

“Then why do you need the gun?”

“For the camera. And in case there’s anyone else in the store. There might be someone in the back I don’t see, or someone could come in, who knows? Somebody might get stupid, try something. Better to have the gun, make them think twice. What’s some guy gonna do, gun in his face?”

“No security guards?”

Billy shook his head.

“That’s why it works. In and out. Two, three minutes at most. Guy says five, six grand there at least. Some in the register, the rest in a strongbox underneath.”

“Why so much?”

“It’s an electronics store. Sunday afternoon before Christmas. People buying gifts all weekend, but they can’t get to the bank to deposit until Monday. Guy says the owner comes in Sunday night at closing, brings the money home with him, puts it under his mattress or something, takes it to the bank the next day.”

Eddie watched a pair of kids riding tandem on a single sled, saw them fly off as the sled overturned, heard their laughter.

“Why’s he doing it? This guy?”

Billy shrugged.

“Hates his boss, I guess. And that’s the funny part. It’s his father.”

“What?”

“Greek guy. Has every dime he ever made. Forces his son to work there but treats him like shit. Kid’s tired of it, wants something of his own.”

“Won’t the father suspect him?”

“That’s what the camera’s for. The gun too. He can tell the story afterward, and most of it will be true.”

“He hates his old man that much?”

“Can you blame him?”

Eddie walked off a few feet, boots crunching in the snow.

“Second thoughts?” Billy said. “If so, I understand. I can get someone else. It’s not too late.”

“You don’t trust me?”

“That’s not what I mean, man. And you know it.”

Eddie walked back toward him.

“What time?” he said.

“Seven. They close at eight. Christmas shopping hours. It’ll be dark then, but a lot of people still on the street – nothing but stores up and down that block.

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