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Chapter Thirty-Two

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Plunder Road

St. George, Utah

Bloomington Market

“I still don’t know why Emily couldn’t just pay us in cash,” Sarah grumbled, arms crossed over her chest.

“We’re lucky she paid us at all, dear,” Perry said. “Now read off those last five numbers.”

Squinting at her phone, she slowly read, “Q-7-5-5-3. Honestly, does no one use Western Union anymore?”

“I actually kind of like it,” he said. “Keeps us nimble, nothing to lose.”

“You better let me hold on to that key, then,” she said. “Remember Wichita?”

“Not my fault,” he snapped back. “You were supposed to grab the bag.”

“This again? I swear, Perry, if you’re going to keep beating that dead horse—”

“It’s all here,” he said. “A hundred-ten K.”

“Well, that’s a relief.” Sarah peered at the screen. “How much can you take out at once?”

He leaned in beside her. “It says fifty, but maybe we should just take out enough to get us back to Akron.”

“Yes, that’s smart.” She straightened and patted her hair. “Five thousand to start.”

“I want my cut, too,” Kate said, coming out of the aisle behind them, holding a bag of Takis.

“Eager to get rid of us, Kate?” Sarah said.

“Yeah, totally. I never should’ve agreed to this shit show in the first place.”

“Well, if you’d done your part properly, we would have a lot more than a hundred K,” the older woman sniffed.

“A hundred ten,” Kate said. “Don’t think I wasn’t paying attention.”

As Perry pressed the buttons, a cool female voice above them said, “I’m so glad to see that my algorithm was right.”

They all exchanged a glance and then turned as one to face the camera pointing down at them from a corner of the market.

“Goddammit,” Kate said with resignation. “I knew it.”

“Is there a problem?” Sarah said innocently.

“For me? No. No problem.”

The wail of approaching sirens. They all looked at the door, then back to the camera. Sarah’s eyes narrowed. “Who is this?”

“As I was saying, I personally don’t have a problem with you. But I do object to your poor treatment of your daughter.”

“Our agreement is with Emily,” Sarah said, hands on her hips. “And I really don’t see how this is any of your business, whoever you are.”

Her husband caught her eye and inclined his head toward the service door. Sarah tilted her head slightly in acknowledgment. Edging toward it, she continued, “We earned every penny of that money.”

“Debatable,” the voice said. “Regardless, I’m a firm believer in people receiving their just deserts. Amber might have let you go, but I did not agree to that. And I should warn you, there are authorities stationed outside that exit as well.”

As the doors at the far end of the market slid open and a slew of uniformed police stormed in, Sarah wailed, “Why are you doing this?”

A pause, then the voice said, “Karma.”