80 Thursday Interstate 95 FloridaStucky had driven all night. He was wired and hopped up on adrenaline. Everything had gone so well. Even better than he expected.
He couldn’t stop grinning, thinking about Agent Maggie’s husband letting him into their apartment. The guy remained on the phone the entire time and paid no attention to him. He was standing with his back to Stucky, less than twenty feet away when Stucky opened the refrigerator and placed the takeout container inside.
It couldn’t have gone any smoother.
Now, even the small catering van ran smoothly despite getting few breaks to cool down in the last nine hours. Sleek and new, Gibson had barely used it. He’d asked Stucky to park it in storage just a few days ago, and his boss didn’t notice whether he returned the keys to the ut
