“Everybody's Got Their Time”

　　Tammi Smith got up early and dressed in jeans and a white shirt. She had an appointment in traffic court in Shelbyville, Indiana, over a minor violation. Waking her husband, Shawn, with a kiss, she told him she was taking the van. The kids were already up, eating cereal and watching cartoons. After court, she thought she might stop to get her nails done and then pick up sodas at the Bigfoot convenience store on the way home.

　　Eighty miles down the interstate in Cincinnati, Ohio, Dennis McAninch and his friend Joseph G. Scalf also had appointments in court. On burglary charges. McAninch, a 34-year-old ex-con with multiple felony arrests and convictions, was currently out on parole after serving five years for burglary. But instead of showing for their court dates, the pair drove across the state line into Indiana in McAninch's 1999 white Ford compact.

　　In Batesville, an off-duty policeman noticed the car slowly cruising a neighborhood. There'd recently been a string of burglaries there —— and this guy drove like someone casing houses. The officer called in a description of the vehicle, and in minutes a police car was on the scene, lights flashing.

　　McAninch pulled over and lifted his shirt, showing Scalf the 9 mm semi-automatic in his belt. He kept the engine running. Then, as the officer approached, he gunned it and took off.

　　Tammi's traffic case was quickly resolved without a fine. Leaving the courthouse, she checked her watch. She still had time to get her nails done.

　　Mcaninch reached speeds of up to 120 mph on Interstate 74, swerving around stop sticks on the highway and throwing screwdrivers, bottles, anything he could put his hands on, out the window at police.

　　After leaving the manicurist, Tammi drove east on Route 44 to Bigfoot. She pulled up to the front door of the convenience store. Intending to dash in and pick up some sodas, she left her keys and cell phone on the seat.

　　In his frantic attempt to escape, McAninch finally crashed into another vehicle, damaging his Ford, which barely made it off the highway into the Bigfoot lot. He leaped out of the car and dashed for the store as police cars pulled in, in close pursuit. Scalf held his hands out of the passenger window and surrendered. McAninch kept running, firing twice at police.

　　Tammi was at the register, holding a copy of The Shelbyville News, when a stocky man in a long-sleeved white shirt and jeans burst through the front door with a gun in his hand. “Everybody get out or I'm going to kill you！”

　　Two female employees rushed for the back door. McAninch leaped over the counter, cornering the clerk, a young man, at the register. Not knowing what to do, Tammi ducked behind a food rack at the back of the store.

　　But McAninch saw her. “You, get up here！” he shouted.

　　Okay, Tammi told herself, this is God's plan for me today. I might die. Don't be afraid of dying. Everybody's got their time. This might be mine.