Officer Patti Johnson peeked around the corner and down the corridor leading to the restrooms. “Are you sure he went in the ladies’ room?”
One step behind her, the Pizza Hut manager, a heavy-set older man, pressed his back against the wall and replied in a nervous whisper.
“Yes. He ran past me and straight into the ladies’ room. I thought it was kind of strange. What did he do?”
“He robbed the hardware store down the street. The owner ran out after him and saw him duck in here.”
“Is...is he dangerous?”
“The store owner said he was armed. I want you to get everyone out of here as quickly as you can. Then wait outside. I called for backup. Send them in when they get here.”
If they ever get here, she thought. She knew her fellow officers — all four of them — were busy with a big pileup out on the Interstate. She was on her own.
Patti waited until the manager cleared the place, then crept along the narrow corridor with her service revolver held tightly in both hands. She stopped beside the door marked “Ladies,” reached over with her left hand and... |
