The Mafia Trilogy (27 page)

“Ohhh, I hadn’t thought of that.”

“I know, me neither. Scary, huh?”

“Yeah.”

They walked in silence until they saw a gas station coming up on the right.

Darwin stopped and grabbed both her hands in his.

“Look, Rosina, it’s time to get serious. We have no money on us. We can’t go back and get my wallet or your purse. I haven’t eaten yet today. That asshole back at the house ate my french toast before I could kill him. My adrenaline rush is subsiding and I’m starting to get the shakes. I have to eat.”

“Okay, what are you saying?”

“I’m going into that Mobil gas station and I’m going to steal a sandwich or something for the two of us. They won’t even miss it. Once we have food in our stomachs, we can discuss our next step. Is that okay with you?”

She shuffled her shoulders in a cute way and looked the length of the highway. After a moment, she looked back at him.

“I don’t like it. We have a fridge full of food back at the house just over an hour’s walk from here. We have access to lots of money as per our arrangement with the FBI. This sucks … but I won’t say no because what else are we going to do? They put us in this position. Somehow, some way, they did this, not us. So, okay, you can grab us something, but on one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“You don’t get caught.”

He clicked his tongue. “Don’t be silly. It’s just a sandwich. What could they do?”

Rosina followed a few steps behind as Darwin walked up the length of the entrance to the Mobil. Sweat beaded on his forehead. His hands shook as the ordeal an hour ago wore off. His step wavered, and he reminded himself that none of the symptoms he felt had anything to do with nervousness. He had to take care of his wife and if that meant stealing a five-dollar sandwich, then he would do it.

As they neared the door, he turned and whispered to Rosina, “Run interference.”

He grabbed the door and opened it but was stopped by a hand on his sleeve. Rosina gestured for him to come back out. He followed her a few feet from the door.

“What?” he asked.

“What does ‘run interference’ mean?”

“Avert the clerk’s attention when I’m about to pocket our meal.”

“How will I know when?”

Darwin could tell she was having trouble with it. What he didn’t understand was why.
We just killed two men and she’s having issues with stealing.
Maybe killing to save your own life—self-defense—could be accepted, but outright breaking the law was a completely different story.

“Look, Rosina, just keep an eye on me. You’ll know, and if I feel you aren’t clear, I’ll nod at you. Okay?”

“Okay. Just be careful. No more killing.”

“Of course not. I just hope the guy doesn’t pull a knife on me.”

She brushed his shoulder. “No jokes right now, either. Let’s just do this and get walking again. I want to try to figure out what we’re going to do next.”

“Deal.”

Darwin walked into the air-conditioned Mobil and nearly gasped. It was such a contrast. In Toronto, where he was from, they had humidity, but not the kind of heat Florida got in the summer.

He counted three customers and a bored-looking clerk. They split up; Rosina headed toward the drinks aisle and Darwin walked toward the sandwich and hotdog section where the wieners sat on steel rollers, constantly spinning.

After reading all the sandwich labels, he picked up two egg salad sandwiches and discovered he had nowhere to hide them.

“Shit.”

He looked at the clerk who was leaning over the counter with a pen in his hand, an open notebook laid flat on the surface of the counter.

The other customers paid him no attention.

What now?

He walked over to Rosina at the drinks fridge.

“You ready to go?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she whispered. “What are you going to do with them? How are you going to … you know?”

“I have an idea. Follow my lead. Don’t say anything. Let me handle it. Oh, and grab a couple of Cokes.”

She frowned and gave him an angry stare. He gestured at the fridge with one of the egg salad sandwiches. “Come on.”

Score two points for the wife
, he thought as she grabbed two Cokes.
I love when she trusts me this implicitly.

Weird elevator music floated down from the speakers above their heads. Darwin walked toward the counter, blocking the music, his mind set on what he was going to do, having no idea if it would work.

He took one last look behind him. One customer read a magazine at the rack. The second stood in the small hardware section debating what antifreeze would best cool his car, and the third customer stood by the bathroom door, evidently waiting for it to become available.

He set the sandwiches on the counter and motioned for Rosina to do the same with the Cokes. She did, a smile on her face.

I’m so proud of you.

He almost let a tear slip. Even in the face of committing a crime and having no idea what he was about to do, she put on the right face and supported him regardless.

My life partner, guys. Right beside me here. Read ‘em and weep.

The clerk hadn’t noticed them. Darwin cleared his throat. He couldn’t waste time. He had to do what he’d planned as fast as he could for it to work.

The clerk turned slowly and looked at them. He stood to his full height and set his pen down in a lazy
I see you—take it easy
attitude.

Well, fuck you, asshole. I’m about to ruin your day.

The clerk grabbed each sandwich and scanned it. Then the Cokes followed. The till rang up a total.

“You want a bag?” the clerk asked.

Even your voice is lazy.
He made it sound like bagging their purchase would be so unnecessary that it would be a nuisance.

“Yes,” was all Darwin could think to do.
Well, if you’re going to ask that way, of course I’m going to make you bag my shit.

He didn’t have the time to keep this up. He reached behind him and dropped a hand in each back pocket in an exaggerated attempt of trying to locate his wallet. He tried his front pockets and came up empty.

“Oh shit …” He turned to Rosina. “Honey, did you bring your purse?”

“No. Too hot for that thick strap. You don’t have your wallet?”

Darwin heard the clerk chewing gun. He had opened his mouth and was smacking his saliva to a rhythm, like the bubbles in bubble wrap being snapped.

He turned back to the clerk, but not before making sure the other three customers were exactly where they were a moment before.

“Look, I left my wallet in the car. That blue Impala over there,” he said and pointed through the window at the vehicle parked at the pump. “I’ll go and toss these in the backseat, finish pumping my gas and come back and pay for it all at once.”

He grabbed the bag and turned to leave. The bag jerked back and Darwin lost his grip.

“Hold up,” the clerk said. “You mean
that
blue Impala?”

Oh shit. Don’t tell me he knows the owner of the car or some shit.

“Yeah,” Darwin said with all the confidence he could muster, sweat rolling down his face even though air-conditioning machines worked tirelessly to cool him.

“You didn’t even start to pump gas yet.”

“Oh, right. Going to do that now,” Darwin said and pulled on the bag.

He felt resistance again.

“Next time, pump first,” the clerk said. “Don’t park at the pumps to come in and shop.”

The clerk let go of the bag. Darwin pulled it in close.

“Right, okay, sorry about that.”
What’s the difference if I pump first and then buy the sandwiches? It’ll still sit at the pump the same amount of time, before I shop or after. Being an asshole for asshole sakes is just fucked, buddy.

Darwin walked back out the door and headed to the blue car, Rosina right beside him.

“What now?” she asked.

“We get in and drive away if there are keys in it.”

“And if there aren’t?”

“No idea.”

“I was afraid of that.”

She walked to the passenger side and got in the car. He tossed the bag inside the front seat and grabbed the pump, dislodged the latch and went to open the hole, but the gas cap had a lock on it.

Shit!

At any second the real owner would show up and everything would be over.

He had to start pumping gas or the ruse was finished. He caught sight of the clerk watching him from the window of the store. No doubt he had to switch a button of some sort to start the gas flowing.

Come on, God, you got me this far. I need a little help here.

The guy who had been waiting by the bathroom door at the back of the store emerged, shaking water off his hands. He slowed a step when he saw Darwin at his car. At any second the guy would see Rosina in the passenger seat.

Darwin waved at him. “Over here,” he shouted.

The man continued toward him.

“How much did you want me to put in?” Darwin asked, knowing the clerk inside the shop would be watching. He wondered if he could hear them.

“Twenty would do. I didn’t know this was a full-serve station.”

“Yeah, it really isn’t, but Andrew, the owner, he’s trying it out for a month to monitor the response. He wants to see if he should change it over.”

“Oh … okay.” The guy shrugged.

“I’m going to need you to unlock the gas cap,” Darwin said.

“Oh right,” the guy said and stepped forward, a key in his hand.

“Here,” Darwin reached out his right hand. “I can do that for you.”

The clerk still watched him through the gas station’s window. He used his free hand to wave and smile. The clerk didn’t move, his face expressionless.

Darwin opened the cap, dropped the nozzle in and started pumping gas.

“How about this heat?” he said, handing the keys back.

The guy nodded.

What next? What do I do?

He couldn’t jump in the guy’s car and race away because the guy had the keys back on him. As soon as the gas was pumped, he would be out of options. Or before that, if the guy noticed Rosina in the front seat.

The pump hit twenty dollars.

Darwin stopped pumping, set the nozzle back and reached out his hand. He was so smooth that for a moment he wondered if he had been a gas jockey in another life.

“That’ll be twenty bucks.”

He wondered if the clerk was still watching. Would he figure out that Darwin was taking the guy’s money for gas?

Unless he thinks we’re friends and I’m making him pay for the gas.

The owner of the car handed Darwin a twenty and made to step around him.

“You gonna want a receipt?”

The guy shook his head. He opened his car door as Darwin opened his mouth to try to stop him, but nothing came out.

At the exact second, Rosina opened her door and slipped out. She eased the passenger door shut and then ripped it open fast as the guy turned her way.

“Excuse me, sir,” she said. “The guy who pumped your gas is in training. Sorry to bother you, but did he ask if you wanted your windows cleaned?”

“No, he didn’t, but it’s all right. I’m in a hurry. Thanks.”

“Okay, sir, have a nice day.”

Rosina shut the passenger door and walked around the car to join Darwin, the bag of sandwiches and Cokes wrapped around her wrist.

“Well done,” Darwin said under his breath.

“It’s not over yet. As soon as this guy …” she stopped talking when the blue Impala turned on, “leaves, the clerk will not only want the money for the food but also the gas.”

“I know. I’m thinking.”

The blue Impala pulled away. Darwin waved at the mirrors.

“We’re out of time. The clerk just disappeared from the window.”

The door of the gas station opened and the clerk ran out.

“Hey!” he shouted. “What are you doing?”

The noise of the pump behind them ceased churning. Darwin turned to see a man in his fifties standing by the gas pump. The old man put a hand to his chest and mouthed the word, “Me?”

“No, those two,” the clerk shouted.

“I think he means you,” Darwin said to the old man who stood at least five feet behind him.

“What do we do?” Rosina asked near Darwin’s ear, a sense of desperation in her voice.