Chapter 3Joshua juggled the six-pack under his arm and the three bags in his hands before he gave up and rapped his knuckles on the rear door of the Fiorillos’ dry-cleaning business. Yeah, he could have set one of the bags down, but where was the fun in that? Life was all about the test of one’s skills.
He leaned against the painted steel while he waited for Michael and stared at the darkening sky. Not that he could see much from the shadowed alley. The air was cool for July. A series of storms had hit before they pushed over to the eastern edge of the US.
That was good. Hot and dry summers flipped some kind of switch in the population, and the crazies came out in force. At least the ones with a telephone and an urge to dial 911, thus making their crazy his problem. A chunking noise warn
