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spill over into action. There was always something he could be impatient about.
    She pointed ahead into the store. “That right there. I don't think he'll ever grow up.”
    They both watched Joey make beelines up and down the aisles from one delicious junk food delicacy to the next. During his mad dash, he rounded a corner too quickly and knocked over an end cap display, sending assorted flavors of chips flying across the floor.
    That sent the portly shop keep trundling over, flamboyantly waving his arms in a fit while Joey haphazardly threw a few items back on the display.
    Gage chuckled. “That's what makes him special.”
    Joey filled up his bags then reached into his pocket, tossing some cash on the counter. “Keep the change!” he shouted, bounding out of the store and back into the vehicle.
    “Good God!” said Adrienne. “Got yourself a bit of a boost?”
    “What?” asked Joey, tossing her a bag of beef jerky. He had already demolished a pack of chips, starting in on some cookies. An empty energy drink can made its way into in the plastic bag tied around his wrist. Thankfully for him, a tinny clang indicated there were more full ones inside.
    “I swear that guy’s wife is a beard,” said Joey, a cookie hanging from his mouth as he rifled through the bag for something to wash it down with.
    Adrienne nearly choked, since she agreed.
    “You fuckers set?” Gage cut in; bed was calling his name. “Let's roll, and gimme a damn cookie for waiting on your ass.”
    Adrienne nabbed a chocolate chip one for him and took a fleeting look down at her cell phone as they set off. The indicator showed that it had already increased fifteen percent. Something was certainly wrong with Gage’s phone, which had since died.

 
     

     
     
    THE PORTLY EUGENE MONTGOMERY was counting the money left on the store counter, snorting under his breath when the front doors dinged.
    Better not be that little prick again, he thought, having only just cleaned up about half of the mess left by the whirlwind that was Joey Mosley. Sexy as he is, that boy is a menace.
    That’s when a pungent odor stabbed at his piggish nostrils.
    “First you trash my store, boy, and now you try to smoke in here? Take those damn matches and your cigarettes outside,” he snapped, looking up with a snarl.
    It wasn't Joey.
    There, instead of the young man, two uniformed police officers stood in front of him, imposing like statues.
    “Oh! My apologies officers,” he said with a tinge of surprise and a frown. The coins in his hand fell through his stubby fingers, dancing noisily on the glass. “I didn’t mean… Crap… I thought you were someone else.”
    They said nothing as the shorter officer removed his cap, placing it over the clattery change. His buzzed hair, stocky build and gruff expression weren't putting Eugene at ease one bit. If the guy hadn't been wearing a police uniform, he could just as easily have been there to rob the store.
    Eugene peered over to the other man. He stood at least six inches taller and was far ganglier. His expressionless face and cold focus added to the unease that pervaded the room.
    “So, can I help you two fine gentle…” his voice trailed off as the doors chimed yet again. Eugene shuffled over and craned his neck to see who was coming in. Sweat had begun beading on his brow and he took a large, salty gulp when he saw who had stepped inside.
    A middle aged man with sharp features had waltzed in, his scuffed boots crunching over the array of candy bars and chip bags still strewn on the floor. Dressed in torn skinny jeans, his white wife beater had yellowed from months of accumulated stains. On one wrist he wore a luxury watch, dulled by fictitious gold and on the other a pair of handcuffs dangled loose and free. As he sauntered closer, his steely eyes gazed down a beak-like nose, never leaving the rotund man behind the counter.
    Eugene wrenched his eyes away, noticing a large red smear on the man’s chest as he