The Rare Coin Score (Parker, #9)

by Richard Stark

French had made the left. Parker looked ahead, and down the empty bright avenue he saw a neon sign saying PARK. “Head for that,” he said. “The parking garage.” “Billy went for his hardware,” French said, as though apologizing. “I figured.” “It was supposed to be quiet.” “I know.” French looked at him past Claire. “I didn't know till today you were back in,” he said. “Then it was too late. I promised delivery on this stuff.” French had to be really rattled to do so much talking. Parker said, “Later. When we're clear.” French nodded. “Right,” he said, and faced front again. Claire was still being a zombie, sitting there between them, unblinking, gazing out the windshield. The parking garage was three stories high. French drove the truck inside and stopped and Parker said, “I'll cool the attendant. Put it out of sight upstairs, leave Claire in it, come down empty-handed.” French said, “We can work something out.”