Hell of a Mess, Chapter 1: Hurricane Incoming…

An excerpt from my new heist-in-a-hurricane novel.

It was the worst possible timing — or maybe the best. A major hurricane churning its way up the East Coast, unleashing chaos: traffic jams, stripped store shelves, canceled flights, subways and trains shut down. Overloaded 911. Distracted cops. Prime opportunity for crime — if Fiona could dodge floods and flying debris. Boz offering her a new life for two hours’ work made it worth the risk.

Raindrops pattered the windshield of the junky Toyota SUV. The rainbands arriving faster now, only twenty minutes apart, as the hurricane’s fingers scratched New Jersey and the southern edge of New York. On the radio, a breathless announcer warned the storm was the biggest in decades, almost Biblical — everyone in low-lying areas needed to evacuate to higher ground or kiss their ass goodbye.

Fireball, dark and small-boned in a way that reminded Fiona of a crow, leaned back in the passenger seat so he could place his ratty sneakers on the dashboard. “I swear, you’d think nobody’s lived through a hurricane before,” he said. “I’m in the supermarket two days ago, the shelves are already stripped bare, it’s total panic. This Asian guy walks up and puts his hand on this six-pack of beer, and I tell him, ‘Do you know kung fu or something?’”