Smokey knew he made a mistake the moment he stepped into the pool of light radiating out of the plate glass window of a liquor store. The harsh neon light made him visible to the four or five pedestrians moving up and down the sidewalk. One kid, dressed in blue jeans, a ratty-looking sweatshirt, a ball cap pulled low over his eyes, and sneakers that looked ten years older than he was, started to enter the liquor store. But as he opened the door, he glanced to one side. A moment’s hesitation. That’s all. Just a sudden stop in mid-motion, and the old boxer knew. Knew he had been made and Philo’s junkyard dogs would be down here snarling and drooling in a matter of minutes.
knew. KnewThe old man half-turned to move back into the darkness of the alley. But he didn’t. Instead, his head twisted
