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curmudgeon would deny it with his last breath.
    “Thank you,” Bailey whispered. “Thank you all, so much.”
    Carla applauded and raised her cup. “Here’s to you, Bailey!” Soon everyone’s cups were raised.
    “Thank you again.” Bailey looked almost embarrassed as she stuffed the money back into the mug and slipped it onto a shelf beneath the counter.
    Pastor Hank sipped his drink, then raised it once more. “And now, S-Man, time to sign that contract!”
    They all whooped and hollered. Ali and Brittany laughed.
    Movement at the door caught Carla’s eye. Frank West stepped inside.
    “Hi!” Paige glided to him like metal to a magnet. They hugged, then pulled back to gaze into each others’ eyes.
    Carla leaned toward Brittany’s ear. “Are they gone or what?” She gave her head a slow shake. “Totally.”
    S-Man opened his computer bag and pulled out a stack of paper. Carla raised her eyebrows. “Good grief, looks like one of my real estate contracts.”
    “Yeah, this is three copies. Lots of pages to sign.”
    “Tough work there, Ted.”
    He smiled at her, and his serious face and dark knitted eyebrows relaxed. Carla had told Leslie all along —
S-Man’s cute when he smiles
.
    Ted held up the contract. “
This
” — he shook the paper — “is what I’ve been working so hard for during the past two years. Writing all day, learning the craft, not making a
dime
. And now…” He blinked, as if he still couldn’t quite believe it.
    “Now you’re headed toward fame and fortune!” Leslie raised her hands in victory. “Like the publisher said, ‘Stellar writing. The nation’s next science fiction star.’”
    No kidding
, thought Carla. Seventy thousands bucks
each
for two books. That had to be a big advance for an unknown writer.
    “He’s already a star, thanks to our blog.” Wilbur wagged his head. “Man’s almost as popular as I am.”
    “All right, who’s got a pen for this historical moment?” Pastor Hank patted his empty shirt pocket.
    “Right here.” S-Man already held one in his hand. “But this won’t be quick. I have to sign all three copies, plus initial every page.”
    “That’s all right, Ted. I’m clapping all the way through.” Bev started to applaud.
    Carla joined in along with everyone else.
    Ted leaned over the counter and began the happy task they’d all come to witness.

NINE
     
    Mitch and Kent each hid a handgun in the large right pocket of their jackets. Brad grabbed his own coat from the floorboard and patted its bulge. “Already got mine.”
    Kent threw him a hard look.
    The three men jumped from the truck. Lifted two large duffel bags out of the back. The heavier one was filled with four MP5 submachine guns and enough thirty-round magazines to take down a small army. Kent unzipped the lighter bag and pulled out a white envelope. Brad stuck it in the waistband of his jeans. Kent closed the bag and gave it to Brad to carry. Mitch took the bag full of weapons.
    They looked at each other. This was it, and God help them.
    For you, T.J.
    Kent checked his watch. Eight o’clock.
    They cut diagonally across Second toward the corner of Main, trying to look nonchalant. The morning air felt fresh and tingling on Kent’s cheeks.
    Would he ever feel it again?
    Sudden grief for all he would lose pierced him. Freedom, home, Lenora. He knew he’d go to prison for this. Maybe for life.
    He turned his head and spat on the street.
    They reached the curb of Main Street and stepped up to the wide sidewalk. Java Joint would be on their left, a few doors down.
    At the bottom of the block, a man in an old Subaru pulled into a parking space. Kent kept an eye on him.
    The world narrowed. The sound of their footsteps, the street, their target’s front entrance. Adrenaline surged through Kent, making his fingers twitch. The
power
. Nearly beat his heart right out of his chest. Each step melted away the months of sickening helplessness.
    Today Kent Wicksell would see justice