Patricia Cornwell – Hammer02 Southern Cross

‘Oh, now don’t be telling me you’re into that one,’ Divinity complained. ‘Some old bitch driving that piece of shit?’

‘It’s the people with new cars that don’t have money,’

Smoke said as he watched the old woman rummage in her purse.

He drove past her and tucked his Escort out of sight behind the bank.

‘Get in line behind her,’ Smoke ordered Divinity.

‘For what? She probably only gonna get twenty, thirty dollars. I’d rather do the Jeep.’

She looked longingly back at it, wondering why someone would be so stupid to leave it like that in times like these days. Smoke rubbed his hand between her legs. Divinity laughed and grabbed him back.

‘All right, all right,’ she said. ‘Whatever you say, baby.’

Miss Sink felt perfectly safe as she continued digging in her purse. She had no reason to worry about withdrawing cash from this particular location because it was just across from the Kmart parking lot, and Kmart opened at eight. Already there were quite a number of cars pulling in for bargains.

Loraine was awfully quiet in the back. She was strapped in and warmly dressed, and at the moment, not crying. Miss Sink got out of the car, still digging for her wallet. Her heart got tight as she tried to remember where she had shopped last, and if she might have left her billfold there. Her memory wasn’t as good as it used to be and she was always making up all kinds of excuses to deny it.

At first, she didn’t pay much attention to the young woman who stepped up behind her and started grabbing things out of a faded denim bag.

‘I can’t find nothing inside this thing, either,’ the young woman said, rummaging loudly. ‘Drives me crazy!’

Miss Sink turned around and was rather taken aback. The young woman was hard-looking in a very short skirt, tight black tank top and red Chicago Bulls windbreaker. She had rings in her ears, nose and one eyebrow, the style of the day, which in Miss Sink’s opinion was no different from the mutilation she used to see in National Geographic.

‘I don’t know where I put it,’ Miss Sink muttered in irritation.

She glanced back at her car, hoping the baby aspirin had helped and Loraine was asleep. The young woman stepped a little closer and something inside Miss Sink suddenly woke up. She got uneasy. She was relieved when a nice-looking young man came around from the back of the bank.

‘Save any for me?’ he said in a friendly voice.

He was well groomed and neatly dressed in the baggy, sand-blasted, Chicago Bulls fashion of the day. Miss Sink gave him an uncertain smile.

‘Morning, ma’am,’ he said to her.

Miss Sink didn’t like his eyes. They were so intense, more like a stare, and there was something in them that spoke to her but she didn’t want to listen. The young woman was standing oddly to one side of the machine, as if avoiding the camera. Miss Sink was beginning to feel frightened. She wanted to believe the young man would protect her.

‘Worst thing ever invented. Spits out money like it’s

Monopoly,’ the young man said as he also stayed out of range of the camera.

‘Tell me about it,’ the young woman said. ‘I go through it like candy these days. Or would if some people’d hurry on up.’

He seemed like the sort of boy who might live in Miss Sink’s part of town. He was probably getting money on his way to school, and she bet he went to one of the private schools like Saint Christopher’s or Collegiate.

‘You know, some of us gotta be somewhere,’ the young woman said loudly. She was making faces, sighing, looking around and rolling her eyes. ‘I can’t be standing here all day!’ She glared at Miss Sink.

‘I’m sorry,’ Miss Sink stammered, her nervous hands fluttering through her purse. ‘I just hope I haven’t lost it. Oh dear, oh dear.’

‘You can’t find it, old woman, then just get outta the way!’

‘Hey, cool it,’ the young man suddenly said.

He stepped closer to Miss Sink, but still off to the side.

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