The Guardian by Bill Eidson

it?”
    Ross told her about the man’s comment about classified ads. He held up the stack of posters. “And making the assumption that he chose the store in Watertown because he knows something about the area, we’ll start there with these posters.”
    “That’s quite an assumption,” Allie said.
    Ross nodded. “True. So I’m going to hit some of the main streets in Boston, like Boylston, Mass. Ave., Commonwealth. And I’m going to blanket here, Lincoln.”
    “Lincoln?” Allie said. “You can’t think he’s from here?”
    “No. But I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s scoped this area out, driven through at night, maybe even looked at the house.”
    Beth glanced out the window. “I’d love to see him,” she said, her voice remote.
    Ross kept his tone mild. “That’s not out of the realm of possibility. I think it’s unlikely today. He’ll probably just lie low and try to figure out how he’ll know if the police are involved. But he knows we have the money. He could assume accurately we have it here in the house—so he may try to just come in and take it.”
    “Could you get us another gun?” Beth met his eyes.
    “How about yours?” Ross said to Allie.
    “You have a gun?” Beth asked, surprised.
    Allie smiled thinly. “I keep one in the nightstand drawer. The people I used to put away made threats from time to time and it helped me sleep, having it there.”
    “Could you get it for us this morning?”
    She hesitated, then nodded. She said she would be back in a few hours. “I’ve got a ton of calls to make. But then I’ll pick up some clothes, and plan to stay here tonight.”
    Beth thanked her, and Allie gave her a hug. “Whatever I can do.”
    After she left, Beth turned back to Ross and said, “What next?” Clearly trying to keep moving, trying to keep something in front of herself.
    “OK. Does Greg keep his appointment calendar at home?”
    Beth covered her face briefly and then stood. “I’ll get it.”
    Ultimately, they decided Beth would call Greg’s business and say that the whole family had caught a virus and Greg was particularly sick and probably wouldn’t be in for several days. They’d leave his secretary to cancel his appointments. Janine was on summer break, so she wouldn’t be missed until a birthday party later in the week.
    In the middle of their plans, there was a noise at the front door. Ross ran across the living room with the handgun drawn. He looked out the window and felt like an idiot.
    For there was a teenage boy walking away with a big bag slung over his shoulder. The paperboy.
    “Jesus.” Beth stood beside him. “This is what we do now.”
    Ross opened the door and picked up the paper. He was about to throw it down on the table when a small item at the bottom of the front page caught his eye. A late breaking story, just a few column inches. The second convenience store killing in as many days had occurred early that morning in Cambridge.
    And the store owner had been shot in the face with a shotgun.
     
     

 
    Chapter 19
     
     
    Ross told him about Greg.
    “Ah shit,” Crockett sighed. “Buried your own brother.” He rubbed his hands over his face, his stubbly beard rasping. He said, “You got any reason to think the girl is still alive?”
    Ross lifted his shoulders. “He said we had one more chance. The way I look at it, the man had his hands on the money, he saw that it was real … and he lost it. I’m hoping that’ll eat at him enough that he’ll give it another try.” Ross slid a poster across the table.
    Crockett looked at it, grunted. “So maybe he’ll call. What do you want with me?”
    Ross passed the newspaper over and pointed to the article.
    “Convenience store, shotgun.”
    “Yeah? Your pal’s not the only one who sticks up grocery stores. We’ve got a thriving metropolis here, you know what I mean?”
    “Shot the owner in the face. Same as with the store owner when he kidnapped Janine. And this store’s just a few miles