Fern and Donald picked up lunch at a walk-in joint across from where their quarry lunched. The food calmed Donald but left his determination to blow Luci Seymour away undiminished. As he stuffed food into his mouth, his brooding gaze never left the entrance to the restaurant. The busy street with its complicated restrictions on turning wasn’t suitable to their purpose, but after lunch, they followed them to a narrow quiet street and watched as they parked in front of an auto parts store.
“All right. This is good, real good. Drive by slow so I can check it out, then turn round. When I give the word, hit it. Then get out of here.”
Fern nodded, concentrating on getting the car into optimum position for the kill—and an easy escape. She was aware of the pain from her broken arm, but hovering
