The Joplin safehouse is unusual, as far as their safehouses have gone. It's an apartment in the middle of a residential neighborhood. Nannies walk strollers down the street in broad daylight while children draw in chalk or play stickball on the sidewalks.
"What kind of safehouse is this?" Courtney mumbles as they pull into a driveway in their newest Ford, a V8 B-400 Convertible that Duncan and Harold had scoured for across the whole county. Harold hadn't had a chance to drive it yet because Duncan had yet to get out from behind the wheel.
"Well," Al says as he gets out of the car to crank open the garage door, "it isn't a safehouse exactly."
"This is our apartment," Heather explains. She puts on her hat as she readies to get out of the car. "Alejandro and I legally own this place. Not under our real names of course, but it's still ours."
Duncan backs the car into the garage, and Al cranks the door shut. They disembark. Courtney reaches for her bags, but Duncan grabs her hand. "First, the tour."
He takes her through a door that leads into a quaint kitchen with a working icebox. The furnished parlor is spacious, with rocking chairs, a sofa, and a fireplace. It leads into three rooms, one for each couple and one for Harold so he doesn't need to sleep in the parlor, and a bathroom connected to the master bedroom with a tub. Courtney turns the handle and water gushes out. It's the first place in months that has had both electricity and running water.
"Grand, ain't it?" Duncan says, wrapping his arms around her stomach. "Care to test it out?"
He kisses her neck and she laughs. "How long are we staying?"
"Long as we need to," he says. "We're off the books and out of our pattern. We sent the couple who rent it from Al and Heath on a long vacation."
"I want to see the town," Courtney announces. "Let's get everything out of the car and go see what's what in Joplin. We'll get some groceries and supplies." She kisses him. "Then we can relax."
"Hm," Duncan kisses back, smirking, "I'm only agreeing 'cause it means more drivin' in the new Ford."
"Unbelievable. You're nine years old."
Heather and Al decide they should all go into town. They park the car behind a butcher shop and Harold goes about stealing a Missouri license plate for them, just like Al and Duncan had taught him to do. The couples split off to do their own errands. It's the most private time Courtney's had with Duncan in broad daylight in weeks. Even then, they're careful to dip their heads when passing police officers directing traffic.
"So?" Duncan says, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Where ya wanna go to first?"
They come across a hardware store and decide to start there. Duncan wants to take advantage of a decent place with steady electricity and get some nice light bulbs for the house. As Duncan browses the different types of bulbs and filaments, Courtney meanders over to a glass counter with multiple types of folding, collapsible cameras.
"I see you found the good stuff," the store attendant says, chuckling.
Courtney smiles back and sits on her heels to get a better look at the cameras. "I've never handled one of these before. Is it complicated?"
"Complicated?" the man chuckles. "Why, not at all. Cameras have come a long long way since I was a boy. These days, anyone with two hands and enough film can manage a camera. Watch."
He pulls out a sleek six-by-nine box that unfolds into a lense and body. "With the Jiffy, you just point and click. You still have to hold it for a second but there's no hassle with powders or stands. A working camera for the working woman. Give it a try."
Courtney picks it up and looks at the man through the lens, bringing him into focus. Then she turns slowly, finding Duncan in the lightbulbs section, meticulously going through bulbs like there was a noticeable difference between any two of them. She puts him in frame, his pinstriped suit mirroring the pattern of the pipes and wires behind him, the rounded shapes of the bulbs contrasting the angles of his face.
Courtney puts the camera down and pulls bills from her purse, turning back to the attendant. "How much will this get me? In terms of camera and film?"
The man counts the money. "That'll get you the camera and about three rolls of film. I'll throw in a case too, if your jobbie's buying as many lightbulbs as he looks like he's going to."
"That's perfect," Courtney says, grinning. The man shows her how to load the film and tells her where in town she can go to get it developed. He puts it all in a bag for her and Courtney walks over to join Duncan, kissing him on the cheek.
"A lightbulb is a lightbulb, Duncan," she jokes. "Shove a handful in your pockets and let's go."
"I take my cars, my liquor, and my hardware very seriously, doll," he says, squinting at the inside of a bulb.
Courtney sighs and waits as he finally decides on a type and size of bulb and then purchases a quarter dozen.
After a few hours of meandering around Main Street picking up odds and ends, they walk back to the car where Harold is slowly cranking the roof down.
"So whaddaya think of Joplin?" Duncan asks, loading his lightbulbs and Courtney's camera in the trunk along with groceries for the week.
"It's nice," Courtney admits. "Nothing out of the ordinary though. Didn't see any bars or speakeasies or whatnot. I can't believe Al and Heather would want to live here."
Harold finishes cranking and reaches the driver side door at the same time Duncan does.
"But you drove her all the way here!" Harold whines as Duncan glares down at him.
"And I'm gonna keep drivin' her, capiche?"
Harold mumbles and shuffles into the front seat on the other side of Courtney. He pulls out and unwraps a deck of cards from his pocket. "Ever learn how to play blackjack, Miss Bonnie?"
Al and Heather return to the car about ten minutes later laden down with shopping bags, a few tanks of gasoline, and, surprisingly, a guitar case.
"Did you two clear out a department store?" Courtney asks as they go to load the bags into the trunk.
"Alas, chica," Al says with a secret grin. He lifts a case of beer out of one of the bags so Courtney can see. "Just liquor and ammunition."
"So what's in the guitar case? Another Browning?"
"No, actually, a guitar," Heather says. "If we're going to spend heaven knows how long laying low, I figured we should have decent entertainment."
"I don't know how entertaining I'll be, amor," Al says, getting into the car himself. "I haven't played guitar in a long while."
Duncan pulls out from behind the butcher shop as the butcher exits, dumping the remains of his kills in a trash bin.
"Joplin ain't looking so bad now, huh?" Duncan asks Courtney, tipping his fedora cordially at the butcher. "See? We can keep busy 'til we're clear to get on the road again."
"Maybe peace and quiet will do us some good," Courtney sighs. She blows a kiss at the policeman in the intersection who narrows his eyes at their car and squints to read their liscence plate as they pass.
"Well don't blow yer wig with excitement."
"Ha ha."