"Yah, well, rules are for other people, not for me. Know what I mean?"

    "Whatever, Jimmy. But I don’t think it’s a real good idea to be whippin’ down the highway, an’ we’re carrying, y’know." Danny Legett’s gaze was transfixed on the speedometer. Jim Leteri had the needle buried, as the car hurtled south on route 3 eating up the highway like a beggar at a banquet. Leteri wove in and out of traffic to a symphony of blaring horns and flashing headlights, seeming not to notice. Every so often he would raise the pint of Jack Daniels, clutched between his thighs, up to his lips and take a good pull, exhaling after he did so.

    "Listen, Ferret, there’s nothin’ to worry about. I got the radar detector on, plus I’m like, you know, a genius with spotting places where cops can hide. Just relax and keep your mind on what we need to do tonight."

    Legett’s mouth pursed, and his eyes narrowed as he picked at a pimple on his upper lip. "Jimmy, you know I don’t like bein’ called by that name. That’s a jailhouse thing, an’ I don’t like it. Why can’t you call me Danny, like everyone else?"

    Leteri took another drink of whiskey, let out his breath, and laughed. "Whadd’ya expect? I mean, you got a nose a yard long, no chin, an’ a big head. An’ give me a break, ‘cause I’m not the only one calls you Ferret."

    "Fine, go ahead. Maybe I change my mind about this thing we’re gonna do. Doesn’t sound all that good to me anyway. Sounds like one of them jailhouse stories where some old geezer’s got a bucketful of cash hidden in the cellar. Sounds like that."

    Leteri looked at the smaller man, noting that Legett was feverishly working on the pimple, squeezing it until it bled. He watched as Legett wiped his hands on the legs of his black jeans, then settled his body back into the contour of the passenger seat. Legget’s greasy, blond hair seemed to defy gravity as it barely moved, even as the wind rushed in through the open car window.

    "Normally, I’d probl’y agree with you," said Leteri. "But, the guy that gave me this is as good as gold. Besides, this ain’t cash in no cellar, it’s antique stuff, y’know, maps, antique guns an’ stuff like that. We fence that off easy. An’ I mean, how much trouble can old folks give us? They do, an’ that’s what we got these for." Leteri held up a blue steel, long barreled .357 magnum, lethal looking, even in his large hands.

    "Damn, Jimmy. Will’ya put that thing down? We ain’t even half way down to the Cape, an’ you’re waving that thing around like Wyatt Earp. What’s up with that? You lookin’ to go back to The Hill? If you are, let me out an’ I’ll walk back to Boston if I have to. Damn!"

    Leteri’s shoulders heaved up and down as he laughed, almost convulsively. He shoved the revolver back into the waistband of his jeans, jumped the lane to pass two cars, and turned to Legett. "Man, you gotta loosen up. I ain’t going back to The Hill. I told you an’ everyone else, I’ll go out blazing if I have to, but no way are they ever getting me back in the slam. ’Sides, no one’s looking through the car window. You got nothin’ to worry about. What you oughta be doin’ is thinking about your end of this deal tonight. That’s what you oughta be doing."

    "Don’t worry about me. Like you said, how hard can this be? Two old geezers. I mean, you seen me on a score before. You know that I’m the real deal, otherwise you wouldn’t have me here. Right?"

    "You just make sure that you’re holding up your end. All right? Now, tell me what we’re each gonna do when we take this place down? I wanna know that you got it down pat."

    "Jeez, Jimmy, wadd’ya think, I’m stupid?" Legett ran a hand through his hair, barely making a part as he did so.

    "Ferret ... I mean, Danny, I never said you were stupid. No way I take a moron on a score with me. All I’m doin’ is making sure that we’re both on the same page. Know what I mean?"

    "Yah, sure. But, I’m not stupid."

    Leteri clenched his teeth as he glanced over at Legett. Legett seemed not to notice, appearing to be more interested in pouting than in listening to what Leteri had to say.

    Taking a long pull from the whiskey bottle, Leteri calmed himself down before he spoke. "Ok. So, run me through what we do. Start to finish."

    Legett turned in his seat to face Leteri, somewhat amazed at the size of the man next to him. Legett had seen Leteri working out on the weight pile in the can, and knew that Leteri could pump iron with the best of them. Still, not until he took a moment to really look at him did Legett get the full effect of the two hundred and fifty pounds of human being next to him. It wasn’t just bulk with Leteri, it was the way the bulk was assembled -- kind of like a mountain of muscle. Very intimidating.

    "All right. We wait until 8:30, because the store closes at nine. We park in the rear lot. At 8:35 I walk around to the front of the building, check it out, see if there’s any customers inside. If it’s clear, I walk down the sidewalk until I can see the car and I signal you. You come around the other side of the building and we both walk to the front door of the store. You go in first, I follow. I stand near the front door, and you check out the store again. If there’s no customers, we brace the old goats who own the store, do our thing, an’ we’re outta there. Satisfied?"

    "Just making sure, is all. Even on a sweet setup like this one, it doesn’t hurt to make sure. You got your piece ready?"

    Danny Legett pulled a .32 Berretta from under his shirt, nickel plated and shiny. "This outta do it. Probl’y won’t have to use it anyway. What do they have in this place anyway?"

    Leteri shrugged. "Don’t really know. Guy who set the score up says we’ll get some antique guns, some old maps, maybe some old gold coins. That’s really all I know, aside from the fact that this is supposed to be worth in the area of twenty to thirty large."

    "Wait a minute," said Legett, "we’re talking that much scratch from a store on the Cape. What the hell are they selling?"

    "Most likely old stuff, I guess. Doesn’t matter to me as long as it puts some cabbage in our pockets. This is gonna be so easy. So easy, it’s gonna feel like stealing." Leteri laughed, apparently impressed with his own sense of humor.

    "But, what about getting away. This place is in Harwich, right? Well, correct me if I’m wrong. Only one way on and off the Cape without a boat, and that’s route 6. What’s gonna stop the Staties from setting up a roadblock at the bridge. That’s what’s got me feeling hincky about this. No way out."

    "Ok. Here’s the deal. We do our thing, y’know take anything looks like it could be worth some scratch. We duct tape the old farts, then we go up to South Yarmouth, grab a room. I know this place, The Mariner. Not bad. Anyway, we stay there over the weekend, then we ride off with everyone else on Sunday. But that time they’ll have assumed that we’re long gone anyway. And, with all the traffic going off Cape they won’t have the time, or the interest to be out there looking for someone who looks like they could have done this. Plus, we get a weekend on the Cape, maybe score some babes, y’know."

    Legett had to admit to himself that it sounded like a good idea.

***

    Leteri eased the Monte Carlo into a space in the lot in back of the store. He’d seen the sign on the front of the building as they’d passed by: Tombstone Territory. Kind of weird, he thought. It seemed a little bit out of place on the Cape. But, Leteri reasoned, there must be a million different places down here for the tourists to blow their money on. All Leteri cared about was making some cash out of this score.

    Once the car was parked Danny Legett opened the passenger door, got out and walked toward the north side of the parking lot. He walked purposefully down the side of the building, turned right and slowed down. He wanted to be able to get a good look inside.

    As he approached the first window of the store he slowed, stopped, and peered in, pretending to window shop. There didn’t appear to be anybody inside, other than an elderly shopkeeper, and he looked to be seventy, if a day.

    Danny scanned the offerings in the window. He felt disappointed. As far as he could tell, there was some hand-tooled cowboy belts, leather vests, what looked to be hand-made boots, and some turquoise jewelry. He moved down to the next window.

    More like it, he thought. Displayed in the window, shining like a trophy, was a beautiful .12 gauge shotgun. It had a polished walnut stock, and the barrel was black steel, inlaid with gold etching. Danny’s mind was racing as he calculated the probable worth of such an item. Although he was uneducated in these things, he felt that this piece could bring them at least a thousand bucks.

    Then, his eye was drawn to a holstered pistol. The placard that was affixed to the holster said: Samuel Colt, .44 caliber Peacemaker. Legett’s eyes bulged at the price: $1,200, firm. Twelve hundred bucks for a piece, thought Legett. Wow! No way that he would pay that amount, and he didn’t understand why anyone else would. What Danny did understand was that he and Leteri were about to make a big score.

    Legett walked down the rest of the length of the sidewalk, past the end of the store. He continued on until he could clearly be viewed from the back lot.

    He looked and saw Leteri waiting in the Monte Carlo. Legett raised his hand in the pre-arranged signal that everything was jake.

    From where he stood, Legett could see Leteri exit the vehicle and proceed in the exact same direction that Legett had taken when he’d first gone to case the store. Realizing that Leteri was headed for the north corner of the building, Legett turned and started back toward the south corner.

    When Legett reached the front door of the store, Leteri was already there, looking impatient. Legett motioned with his head, and Leteri opened the door. Once inside, Leteri proceeded to go down one of the aisles, and Legett remained up front, guarding the door.

    "How ya’ll doing?"

    Legett was startled when he realized that the old man was talking to him.

    "Huh?"

    "Ya’ll lookin’ for somethin’ particular, or ya’ll just browsin’? Whichever, it don’t mind to the missus and me. Just let me know when you see something you take a fancy to, and we’ll work it out. Okay?"

    Legett looked at the silver haired man in front of him. Yah, seventy, if a day, he thought. This score should be cake. The day I let an old man like this rain on my parade is the day I pack it in.

    "Well," said Legett, "I’m just browsing for now. I’ll give you a shout if I see anything that I like."

    "Sure ‘nuff," said the old man. "And, if I’m not about, Momma’s somewheres around. She can help you, too."

    "Great. Great," said Legett. He watched as Leteri circled the store, making sure that there weren’t any stray customers about.

    Legett glanced over his right shoulder, looking outside the store. No one on the sidewalk, very little traffic. An easier score he couldn’t imagine.

    Leteri walked down one aisle, then up another. Lots of western gear—vests, skirts, boots. He’d never have guessed that the Cape would be such a shit-kicker haven. Hey, he thought, different strokes for different folks. The important thing was that he hadn’t encountered a single customer. Good stuff, he thought, we’ll be in and out of here in no time.

    "Did you find something you want, son?"

    Leteri didn’t realize that he was being spoken to until the old man repeated the question.

    "What? You talkin’ to me?" Leteri had almost jumped, being a bit startled.

    "Yes, son. I was asking if you were seeing anything that you wanted?"

    "Ummm ... yah, I think so. I seen this nice gun in the window. Lots of gold in the barrel. Could I see that?"

    "You betcha. That’s a right nice piece of work. Little .12 gauge, good for huntin’, though I’d expect that it’d be more of a show piece. Am I right?" Leteri leered. "Yah, exactly what I had in mind. Show it off to a bunch of my friends." He turned and smirked at Legett who was inching closer and closer to the front door.

    This is gonna be so easy, thought Leteri. One old man. We tie him up, bag up all the good stuff, and we’re outta here. Easy.

    Legett backed up, and turned the lock on the door. He nodded at Leteri.

    "Just wondering, old man, anybody else here? I mean, I don’t wanna hold you up." Leteri tried to look as earnest as possible.

    "Well, son. Nobody else is here. Well, nobody ‘cept Lurleen."

    "Lurleen?" said Leteri.

    "Surely. Lurleen. That’d be the missus."

    "I tell you what, old man. Why don’t you just call her out here."

    The old man looked mystified. "Somethin’ wrong, son?"

    "Nope, I just think it would be better if she was out here where I can see her." With that, Leteri drew the .357 magnum from his waistband and pointed it at the old man.

    "Lurleen ... Lurleen, honey. I think you better come out here. We got some visitors." The old man looked amazingly calm as he stared down the barrel of Leteri’s gun.

    A voice, dimly, answered from the back of the store. "What’s that, Virgil? You need me up front?"

    "Yes, dear, I do."

    Leteri heard the shuffle of feet coming from the back of the store. He guessed that the woman was proceeding from an office area out back.

    A set of curtains parted, and out stepped a white haired woman, who looked to be about the equal of the old man in age. She wore a long, pleated western skirt, with a blue chambray shirt that cascaded over the belt line.

    Must be hiding the fat wrinkles on her waist, thought Leteri.

    "Hi, honey," said Leteri, "why don’t you just step over next to hubby there. Me and my friend just want your money, and some of your stuff. You just be nice and friendly, behave yourselves and we’ll all get along fine. Got it?"

    The couple looked at each other, then back at Leteri. Then, the old man spoke. "Son, ya’ll can walk out of here right now. No harm done. Me and the missus promise that we’ll never say a word to a soul. You and your buddy leave, that’s it. No need for anyone to get hurt."

    Leteri looked back at Legett, a wicked smile on his face. He turned back to the old couple and said, "No, I got a better idea. You two get down on the floor, and shut up. We take all the guns, anything else worth any dough, plus whatever you got in the safe, and you get to live another day. Whadd’ya say to that?"

    "Son," said the old man, "I just don’t think you understand. This business is what we’re all about. We’ve retired up here from back home, and we ain’t got much else. So, why don’t you and your friend just mosey on out of here while you can."

    "What?" Leteri exclaimed in surprise. "You gotta be kidding me. I’ll tell you what. You and the old broad hand over all your money, then get down on the floor and for that I don’t blow your brains out. How’s that?"

    Leteri looked over at Legett, who had yet to draw his gun.

    "Boy," said the old man, "I don’t think you want to try that."

    "Really. Why not?"

    "Cause me and Lurleen just can’t allow that to happen. Goes against the grain."

    "Old man, you got to the count of three to do what I say or end up in a body bag."

    "One ...."

    "Wouldn’t advise that, son."

    "Two ...."

    "Really not a good idea, boy."

    "Three ...." Leteri raised his pistol, pointed it at the old man and cocked the hammer.

    "Last chance, you old bag. Then there’s two less whiteheads to worry about."

    As Leteri’s finger started to tighten on the cocked hammer, the room filled with a deafening sound, then another. Leteri was thrown backwards, his chest exploding in pain. He had a stunned look on his face as he fell first against the counter, then to the floor. He had dropped the pistol, and it now lay inches away from his clenched fist.

    The old man calmly walked over and kicked the pistol out of Leteri’s reach. In his right hand the old man held what looked to be like a long-barreled .44.

    "Wha ... wha ..." said Leteri through the haze that was settling over his glazed eyes. "Didn’t see you pull that ...."

    "Oh, son. That wasn’t me what shot you. That was Lurleen. Momma’s quick. I’m surprised you boys didn’t read her poster on the way in."

    As the smell of cordite hung in the air, and as a blackness began to envelop Leteri’s vision, he rolled his eyes toward the back corner of the room and saw that the old lady had swept back her chambray shirt revealing a hip holster. Leteri had time to see the smoking pistol in her hand before his body went cold and lifeless.

    Legett stood at the door, his hands raised in the air, his right pant leg stained with wetness. "Please, please. Don’t shoot me. I never meant any harm. Honest. Please."

    "Sonny, that’s what all of your kind say. But, don’t worry. Ain’t like I’m some cold-blooded murderer. I expect you’ll be carrying a piece. You’ll need to drop that on the floor, real careful like." The old lady stared straight at Legett, her pistol leveled on his chest.

    Legett reached slowly into his waistband, grasped the small pistol with his fingertips, removed it, dropped it on the floor and kicked it away.

    "Good, now you just move over a few feet and stand there with your hands in the air, while Virgil here goes and calls the police."

    Legett moved on legs that felt somehow disconnected from his body. He looked at the old lady and stammered, "How ... how did you do that? I didn’t even see you pull down."

    It was the old man who spoke. "Like I said, son, I’m surprised you boys didn’t see her poster in the window." With that he reached into the front display window and removed a two by three foot poster, turning it for Legett to see.    

    Legett’s eyes widened as he saw a picture of the old lady, taken maybe 15 years ago, but definitely the same person. In it the woman wore a pearl white Stetson hat, and what appeared to be the uniform of a police department. In her right hand she held a pistol. The sign said:

    Maricopa County Deputy Sheriff, Lurleen Wallace wins fast draw competition for fifth year in a row. The Chandler, Arizona resident beat out all challengers, both male and female to retain her title.