“I probably shouldn’t,” Crow said, as the waitress lifted the pot over his mug. “Feels like my hearts trying to jump out of my chest already.”
The waitress shrugged and asked if he wanted to settle up.
“I’m supposed to meet somebody here.”
She looked around at the empty tables.
“You want anything else then?”
He didn’t. She left and he tried to keep from shaking. A grey cadillac swung in off the road into the parking lot, honked three times, and then drove away. Crow dropped a fifty on the table and left, the pistol heavy in his pocket.