Return of the Dixie Deb by Nina Barrett

slip-ons Mac had bought. She stared at her outfit lying on the dusty floor and nudged it with her foot. Picking her things up, she shuddered and shoved everything back in the bag. She ran her hands through her hair and went to get the hat and gloves she’d left in the truck.
    “Can’t leave any evidence,” she muttered. Lying low, finding a place to hide. They already were thinking like people on the run from the law. Law enforcement had been after them before, but that had been more pretend than anything. This was different.
    Mac had the car doors open when she came out. She tossed her sack in the backseat and got in beside him.
    “So where are we going?”
    “Darned if I know. I’m going to head west. Put a little distance between the truck and us in case someone stumbles across it. I want to drive for a while then pull over and try to find a newspaper.”
    He started the car and took his time carefully maneuvering back down the lane to the road.
    “Some of these ruts could break an axle. They left almost a full tank of gas in the car which is a blessing. Money may get to be a problem soon. I don’t want to use plastic and tip authorities off as to where we are.”
    “But Mac, shouldn’t we get in contact with the F.B.I. or call the police and explain? I mean it was us who were supposed to be the targets, right? If I hadn’t locked the keys in the car we would have been.”
    “There’s more to it than that.” Mac reached over to turn on the radio. “Whoever wanted us dead knew how to find us and had the know-how to rig that explosion. That kind of narrows it down. If it was the old Dixie Deb gang, they still had to have inside information on us.”
    “You mean from the F.B.I.?”
    “Someone’s leaking information to them or trying to take us out on their own. Re-opening this case has stirred up a hornet’s nest. We aren’t going to be safe until…” He caught his breath and turned up the volume on the radio.
    “We are breaking into our regular program for this bulletin. Further information is now available on the robbery and explosion that took place this afternoon at the Merchants’ National Bank in Titusville, Georgia. A man and woman thought to be the so-called New Dixie Deb and her male accomplice, implicated in a recent series of robberies across northern Mississippi, Alabama, and Georgia, entered the bank shortly before one today. Fleeing with a large amount of cash, the two were apparently stymied to find their getaway vehicle locked. They stole a local delivery truck whose driver had been one of the bank’s customers and made their escape. Law enforcement officers on the scene identified a suspicious locked car in the bank’s parking lot assumed to be associated with the pair. In the course of forcing the door open, an explosion was triggered destroying the vehicle and sending Special Agent Jacob Derossiers of the F.B.I. to the Treybine Country Hospital where he was medevac’d to a burn unit in Atlanta.”
    Mac groaned and leaned forward as if in pain.
    “At this time no word has been released on his condition. Authorities speculate the pair may have been transporting explosives in the car intending to later destroy it, make their escape, and disappear as the original Dixie Deb did more than a quarter century ago. They are considered armed and dangerous. Be on the lookout for…”
    Mac slowed the car and pulled over to the side of the road, letting it roll to a stop. He rested his head on the steering wheel.
    She sat in silence, rubbing her arms to warm herself. His face was drawn as he lifted his head to look at her.
    “This is…this is crazy.” She shook her head.
    “Yeah, and it isn’t getting any better.”
    “But they, the F.B.I. knows who we are. Whittaker, those people know we really wouldn’t do something like that. I mean, we’re not real criminals, Mac. They know we’ve been play-acting. We wouldn’t plan to set off explosives and run off with the money. That’s