She saw him. Andrew sprinted across the parking lot, heart hammering, but the SUV had already reached the intersection. It paused—just for a second—then turned left and disappeared around the corner.
Andrew ran for his car, an aging hatchback parked half a block away. He fumbled the keys out of his apron pocket and yanked the door open. “Come on, come on,” he muttered, jamming the key into the ignition. The dashboard lights flickered. The engine sputtered. Coughed.