Chapter 11
IN SUBURBAN AMHERST, Frankie “The Car Thief” Bastione eyed a late eighties Buick in a grocery store parking lot. Frankie was in his late seventies. He wore oversize pants and walked hunched over. He appeared to be a typical old man with his gray hair, and slight limp. But Frankie Bastione was anything but ordinary.
The car he chose was a dark color, unassuming, much like himself. He glanced around then walked over to the driver's side door. He slid a slim jim, a metal bar with a hook on the end, down the crack of the window into the door panel. With a few quick movements, he hooked the lock mechanism, pulled it up, and voilà, it unlocked. Frankie looked around, then opened the door, and slid into the driver’s seat like he owned the car.
As easy as always. He chose this car be
