Stop!” a man shouted, grabbing for Alex’s shoulders. Alex ripped free and hurtled past the guy, keeping the purse tucked under his arm. He ducked and weaved through the crowd milling around the T platform. He’d timed the snatch wrong, yanking the purse off the woman’s shoulder as the subway doors were closing. A guy who’d just gotten off the train heard her muted yelp and realized what had happened. He’d immediately charged after Alex, chasing him through the throng of early-morning commuters. Crap, Alex thought. This was why he usually stuck to snagging poorly attended bags off chairs, or sneaking wallets out of back pockets. He was angry with himself for taking the risk, but that thin strap had dangled tantalizingly from the old lady’s shoulder while she struggled with a ridiculous number of shopping bags from pricey boutiques. He tucked the purse more securely under his arm as he bolted ahead. The turnstiles weren’t far now; another couple hundred feet and he’d fly over them, then up the stairs and into Back Bay Station.
