doing?" Snake growled.
"We don't need to draw attention to ourselves. Just play it cool and celebrate after we get the Caddy to the garage," Joe said.
"Okay, man," Snake groaned, putting his sunglasses back on. "That's cool." Snake leaned back and began hissing a song through his teeth.
Joe shook his head and eased the Cadillac through the intersection. Frank had been right. Snake was not only slow, he was a finalist for Pinhead of the Year.
They were several blocks from the garage and Joe was starting to feel a little easier when Snake bolted up and shouted, "All right!"
Startled, Joe looked around, expecting to see a cop somewhere nearby.
"Will you look at that," Snake said, pointing.
Joe followed Snake's gaze to a small red two-seat sports convertible several feet ahead of them. He glowered at Snake. "So?"
"That's the hottest American sports car made," Snake proclaimed. "It's worth two of these Caddies."
Joe's temples pulsed as he sensed the meaning behind Snake's statement. "We've got our quota for the day."
"You and that hotshot brother of yours ever play 'bump-and-rob'?" Snake's face was alive with excitement.
"No," Joe said quickly.
"It's simple. What's the biggest mistake people make when they have a little fender bender? I'll tell you," Snake said without waiting for Joe and whispered as if he were revealing a deep, dark secret. "They leave their keys in the ignition when they get out to inspect the damage."
"Forget it," Joe shot back.
"Man, this is perfect. No traffic. The driver's an old woman."
"I said forget it!"
"Okay, Joe. Okay."
Snake leaned back in his seat. Then without warning, Snake stepped on Joe's foot, mashing the accelerator to the floor. The Cadillac jerked forward. Joe slammed on the brakes, but not before the Cadillac clipped the rear end of the woman's car.
"All right!" Snake cheered. He jumped from the car before Joe could protest. "Wait for my signal, man, and then haul out of here."
Joe tried in vain to grab Snake and pull him back into the car.
"Hey, what's your problem, lady?" Snake yelled at the woman as she scampered back to the rear of her car.
"Oh, dear me. Oh, my," she cried out, confusion and fear in her voice.
Joe was surprised to see such an old woman driving an expensive sports car. She was dressed as though she were having tea with her bridge club. She wrung her hands and looked helpless as Snake continued to yell at her.
She reminded Joe of Aunt Gertrude.
"When's the last time you had those brake lights checked, huh?" Snake yelled at her.
"Well, I, oh my," the woman whimpered.
"Where'd you get your license? A convenience store?"
Joe had heard enough. He got out of the car. He'd get Snake back into the Cadillac if he had to break the creep's neck doing it.
Just as Joe stepped toward the woman, Snake yelled out, "Now!" He shoved the old woman to the ground, and jumped into the woman's car. He fired up the engine and with a loud cackle and wave, peeled away.
Joe reached down to help the woman up, but she slapped his hands away.
She slowly got up and stared at Joe, her face grief-stricken. She looked at Joe with hate in her eyes.
Then she screamed, "Thief! Thief!"
The old woman sobbed and covered her face.
Despite his desire to help the woman, he had to leave quickly before a crowd gathered. If caught, Cronkite wouldn't hesitate to charge him with auto theft and assault-and-battery and anything else the crusty detective could invent. As soon as he could, he'd call the police and tell them about the stolen car, but he'd do it anonymously.
Joe jumped back into the Cadillac, gently guided it around the woman, and sped away.
A cold, sharp metallic claw gripped Joe's spine. He shuddered at the image of the woman's dark, hateful stare.
For the first time in his life, Joe Hardy felt like a genuine thief.
Chapter 8
Frank had to slow the car down quickly or they'd disintegrate when they hit the concrete pillar.
He grabbed the column shift lever and slammed
Learning to Kill: Stories