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The couple got into the car next to the Toyota. If they hadn’t been so engaged in conversation, either could have looked into the back seat of the car and seen Ian’s brawny frame huddled there.
His heart jack-hammered so hard they must have heard it. It should have pounded in their ears. They had to notice the car shaking like a frostbitten Chihuahua from his trembling nerves. The gusts generated from his anxiety-induced breathing should have sounded like gale-force winds to the couple. They had to know he was there, had to.
But they didn’t. They just got into their Camaro and pulled out of their parking space, never noticing the condensation forming on the windows of that Toyota next to them.
Ian waited until the sound of their car pulling away was no longer within ear shot, then he hesitantly poked his head above the back seat and looked out the rear window. The parking lot was empty once more.
His almost getting caught was not going to go without him first laying claim to the prize that had put him in that predicament to begin with. He quickly reached up front to the still-open ashtray and grabbed all the money from that compartment. He stuffed the bills and loose change into his coat pocket and exited the car as fast as he could.
As he walked up to the building, several more people exited the restaurant. Ian felt as though they had all stared at him with accusing eyes as each passed him on their way to their respective automobiles. He couldn’t help feeling dirty. Priests just don’t steal money. But even more than dirty guilt, he felt hungry and thirsty. It was imperative that he stay awake and alert until his journey was complete. He needed to get to Thurmond, New York if, in fact, that was where Amos Walker still lived. If, in fact, Amos Walker was still alive, though his mortality had no bearing on whether the key was in his family’s possession or not. And he needed to accomplish that before the beast. He had to keep reminding himself that stealing money was only a venial sin, maybe not even that, considering the circumstances.
He pulled out the handful of change and bills and stared at it. He hoped that there was enough for a map as well as food and drink, for though he knew where he was going, he had no idea where that place was in relation to his current location.
As he stepped to the double glass doors at the entrance, the aroma of coffee and pastries grabbed his nose. He stared at the money in his hand once more. He hoped he had enough.
With no success he tried to stifle a yawn, then he went inside to see what his money could buy.
©2004 StoriesByEmail.com
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