Morgan Simpers rested his elbow on the car door; a half-opened hand cradled his chin. It was nearly eight o’clock and still light outside, but he had parked far enough away from the entrance of the store so as not to be noticed. Summertime made that much easier; the parking lot was constantly full of cars.
He reached a hand to pet the dog sitting in the passenger seat. It panted loudly, then slurped a wet tongue across his cheek. “Good boy.” He patted the dog again before turning his attention back to the store entrance. Carrie would be ending her shift and leaving soon. He would wait until he saw her walk through the sliding glass doors.
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