From Chapter 1…

My head started to pound slightly as I walked down the candy aisle. I had this crazy urge to eat chocolate. There were rows and rows of different kinds of chocolate. I grabbed a chocolate bar that had peanuts and one that had caramel. Then I looked over at some chocolate-covered raisins. Yep, a chocolate binge was coming on strong.

Just as I reached down to grab another candy bar, I heard the bells above the store door jingle. It shouldn’t have been a big deal, but my eyes slid toward the back corner of the store and up to where a big round mirror hung. The hairs on my arms stood up. My eyes were fixed on the mirror as I watched two, no, three young males enter the store. One of the boys sauntered down the aisle behind me, while the other two stayed near the front of the store. I couldn’t see their faces.

As a habit, I noted that one of the boys wore a hoodie over a red baseball cap. While the temperature had been a balmy eighty degrees earlier today, last night it dipped down to the fifties. The hoodie didn’t bother me, since I had a similar one in my closet. It was when I saw the back of the jacket one of the other boys was wearing that my senses went on full alert. I forgot about the last candy bar and decided to scoot around to the end of the aisle. I bent down, as if I was tying my shoe, hoping no one had noticed me.

Is that why Marty was acting nervous? I didn’t see the boys when I entered the store, but they could’ve arrived after that. Had they come by car on or on foot?

I was not into the profiling thing, but my years of investigating criminal cases had taught me to be on the alert. That jacket said “creepy” to me, especially about the person wearing it. It wasn’t your ordinary high school varsity jacket, even though it had a similar shape and style. The jacket was red, with a large white skull on the back. There were images around the skull, but from where I stood, observing in the mirror’s angle, I couldn’t make out the details.

I heard the tremble in Marty’s voice when he inquired, “Can I help you boys with something?”

My breath caught in my throat when I heard the boy with the jacket answer back, “Old man, I need you to empty out the register.”

I gulped and shook my head. “No, no, no,” I said softly under my breath. This could not be happening. My life had already flashed before my eyes a year ago. I peered up at the mirror, willing Marty not to play the tough guy and to just give the boys what they wanted. I also hoped that behind the counter Marty had a button connected to an alarm.

Marty’s voice was strong but nervous. “I don’t want any trouble. You boys need to leave. The police will be here any second.”

I watched the boy reach into his jacket and pull something out. “You don’t tell me what to do. I told you what to do.” He stepped closer to Marty. “Now do it or die.”

Do it or die. Looking into the mirror, I couldn’t tell if the boy had a gun in his hand, but my instincts said he’d just reached in and pulled out a weapon. I also realized I would be in a perilous situation if they saw me. All the progress I had made, despite the obstacles I’d faced, would be wasted if I got shot and killed. I could only hope that God would spare my life again. I didn’t deserve the second chance He had given me last year.

As that thought passed through my mind, I heard a loud bang. A flash in the mirror drew my attention. Horrified, I clasped my hands over my mouth as I watched, and the chocolate fell to the floor.

Marty yelled, “You don’t have to do this.”

I watched Marty stab at the buttons on the cash register in an effort to open the money drawer.

What happened next felt unreal. Another shot rang out, and I saw Marty’s body fly back and fall behind the counter. My hand was still over my mouth, and I sought to stifle the scream that had risen up in my throat. Why did the boy shoot the gun a second time? I wondered. It had looked like Marty was giving them the money. My body was frozen as my mind tried to figure out what to do next.

Then I heard the panicked voice of the boy who had walked down the aisle. “Man, why did you shoot him?”

The boy with the jacket swung around toward the boy down the aisle. That was when I saw the gun. The boy with the jacket was definitely the ringleader, and he was wearing shades. He had purposely tried to hide his features. He yelled at the boy in the aisle, “Shut up, or I will send you to the same place I just sent this dude!” He turned around to face the boy in the hoodie. “Let’s finish this. Get the money before the cops come.”

I wanted so badly to stand up and get Marty some help. I watched the boy in the hoodie reach across the counter and inside the open cash register, stuffing cash into his hoodie pockets, while the boy who did the shooting waved the gun around, scanning the store. I was glad I had ducked down.

The boy in the aisle seemed to be backing up to the end of the aisle, away from the front. It occurred to me that he would see me, so I scrambled around to the other aisle. I looked around at my surroundings, trying to figure out what to do. I turned my attention to the mirror to observe the approaching boy. He seemed to be scared and not sure of himself.

It suddenly dawned on me that if he turned around and looked up, he would be able to see me in the mirror. The mirror was angled in such a way that he might be able to see me crouching down like a hopeless idiot. As I attempted to steady my rapid breathing, distant police sirens sounded outside the store.

The boy wearing the red jacket shouted, “Let’s go! Now!” Then he headed out of the store, the boy in the hoodie running after him.

The boy who was down the aisle didn’t move as fast, and he turned his head as he went, as if looking for an alternate door through which to exit the store. As I crouched on the floor, pain shot through my calves. But that pain didn’t rock me as much as the glimpse I got of the boy in the aisle. Despite the dark blue Charlotte Bobcats cap hanging over his eyes, when he turned, I saw his face in the mirror.

I know him.

I sucked in my breath sharply as I watched the young man finally decide to run toward the front of the store. As he exited the store, in the back of my mind I hoped he didn’t get caught. If he was who I thought he was, I felt for sure that young man was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

I waited a minute or two, and then I stood, feeling sharp pains up and down my legs, especially the leg that had the broken ankle a year ago. I limped to the front of the store, almost tripping over my own feet.

“Marty! Marty, can you hear me?” I shouted.

I peered over the counter, catching a glimpse of blood spatter across the tile floor and on items behind the counter. Marty lay in a pool of blood, which appeared to have formed around his head. That boy had aimed directly at Marty’s head. The second shot had been unnecessary, and so vicious. The boy had shot to kill him.

Why was the boy in the Bobcats cap with them?

From the corner of my eye, I could see flashing blue lights as a vehicle pulled into the store parking lot. I would have to figure out what to tell the police when they came inside. I hoped with all my heart that I was mistaken about whose face I had seen. He was family. My family had a reputation is this town, which was one of the many reasons why I had left.