Read Online Shoot the Woman First by Wallace Stroby - Free Book Online

could use if they came inside. She’d go straight at them, do what damage she could, try to get one of their weapons, hurt them as much as possible before they put her down.
    Cordell turned to the other one. “What you think?”
    â€œFuck it, man, let’s go. I’m hurting. They still around here somewhere. We’ll find them.”
    Cordell shone his flashlight at the bay door. She pulled back, saw the beam illuminate broken shards of glass in the panes, then pass along the gap at the bottom of the door. He rattled the chain again.
    â€œYeah,” he said. “Fuck it.”
    The light went out. Then the sound of doors closing, the car backing up. The headlights passed over the front of the garage a final time as they drove away, the engine noise growing fainter. She watched through the window, saw their taillights moving down the street.
    She let out her breath, looked down at Larry. He had his arms around the duffel.
    â€œThey’re gone,” she said. “But they’ll be back before long. When they can’t find us on the street, they’ll come back this way.”
    When he didn’t respond, she said, “Are you all right?” Realized then she couldn’t hear his breathing anymore.
    â€œLarry?”
    She knelt beside him. His eyes were open, glassy. She pulled off a glove, touched the left side of his throat, knew already what she’d find. The skin still warm there, but no pulse, no movement.
    Wind and rain rattled the bay doors. She sank down beside him, her back to the wall, closed her eyes. When she opened them again, they were stinging.
    Thunder again, but farther away. She shivered, felt the cold in her bones.
    She couldn’t risk being out on the street, didn’t know when they’d circle back. There was nothing to do but wait until night. She pulled her glove back on, blinked away the wetness in her eyes.
    She found her jacket there in the darkness, torn but whole. She put it on, zipped it high. Then she wrapped her arms around her knees, pulled in tight for warmth.
    She closed her eyes, sat beside Larry’s body, and listened to the wind.

 
    SEVEN
    Fifteen minutes later, the Lexus came back from the opposite direction, cruised slow up the street, threw headlights on the front of the garage again. They were backtracking, trying to find where she and Larry had gone to ground.
    She stood, legs cramping, leaned against the wall. Through the broken glass, she could see the Lexus out there, both of them sitting inside, thinking it over.
    Almost night now, and no lights on the outside of the building. She was safe in here, out of sight, as long as they didn’t come in.
    She watched, waiting, while they made up their minds. Then the Lexus backed out again, went to the corner and made a right at the wooded lot, headed back toward the house.
    She gave it another ten minutes, in case it was a trap, the two of them parked around the corner, headlights off, waiting for her to show herself. Or coming back this way again, with bolt cutters for the gate chain.
    She’d laid Larry out as gently as she could on the floor. Looking down at him, she had a sudden memory of the day they’d first met. He and Wayne playing cards at the house in Delaware, laughing and drinking, when she came in. He was an old friend, Wayne had told her, from back in the day. She’d guessed what that meant, and she hadn’t been wrong. A week later, they were prepping the Houston job. And then everything had gone to hell.
    She took off her glove again, to close his eyes. No light there now. Just a husk, she told herself. The man inside is gone.
    She pushed the duffel under the bay door, crawled out after it. The rain had stopped, and she could see the glow of the moon through the clouds.
    Two of the drums on the side of the building were lidless, filled with trash, oil cans, and plastic bottles. She tipped one over, water and garbage spilling out. With the barrel