John blinked at the stranger, half in fear and half in astonishment. “Who are you? He stammered. “And what the hell is going on?”
The man tucked his pistol into a small shoulder holster. “Questions later,” he said in an impossibly calm voice with a heavy European accent. “Help now.”
The priest or whatever he was, grasped the dead man under his armpits and nodded toward his ankles. After a beat, John understood, and he bent over, grabbed the man’s ankles, and helped carry the body back to the car the man and woman had just climbed out of. It was Ford Taurus and was unlocked. The priest opened the driver’s side door and popped the trunk.
They put the body inside the trunk and went back for the woman. As they did, another car pulled into the lot and started past them. The priest stepped i
