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Shrini pulled into his apartment complex. After parking, he asked if Dan wanted to come up and help him finish off the rest of the tequila. “We should have a drink in Gordon’s memory,” he said.

Dan thought about it and shook his head. “Carol’s waiting for me.”

“I’ll have to finish the bottle off myself then.” Shrini’s face grew somber as he seemed to lose himself in his thoughts. Snapping out of it, he looked at Dan. “I’ll see you in two days,” he said.

Dan nodded and left the car.

“Money, it’s a gas. Grab all you can and smoke some hash.”

“Will you shut the fuck up!”

Hoffer, a big grin plastered across his face, asked, “What’s your problem? You don’t like my singing?”

Joel grimaced, slowly rubbing both his temples, holding the steering wheel in place with his elbows. “You’re fucking tone deaf, that’s my problem.”

“Money, it’s a hit. Just don’t light up any of that bad shit.”

“I told you to shut up.” Joel took a sideways glance at Hoffer. “I’m not going to tell you again.”

Hoffer could barely contain himself as he rocked back and forth in his seat. “You’re just jealous, man.”

“Fuck you. Not only is your croaking giving me a headache but you’re screwing up the lyrics, you asshole. You’re fucking ruining Pink Floyd for me.”

Hoffer smacked his fist several times into an open palm. “I am so jacked right now,” he said. “Fuck, I wish I had some good weed on me.”

“Yeah, that would be just brilliant. Why don’t I flag down the first cop I see and beg him to search my car? Asshole.”

“Shit, you worry too much. Let’s do something, man. We got guns and ski masks. First gas station we see, man. We can grab some more cash and watch some asshole shit bricks staring down a couple of AK-47s.”

Joel gave him a slow cold stare, his upper lip twisting into a sneer.

“Why don’t you go back to butchering Pink Floyd,” he said. “It would be better than listening to these brilliant ideas of yours.”

Hoffer flipped him the bird and held it steady until Joel took a swipe at his outstretched finger.

“I don’t understand you, Joel. We did it, man. We robbed that bank. We got away with it and we have all the money. Why are you sitting there sulking?”

“In case you didn’t notice I killed someone,” Joel muttered half under his breath.

“I couldn’t hear you, man. What did you say?”

“I said I fucking killed someone! You say another word, make another sound, and I’m putting you out of the car. I mean it!”

Hoffer was about to start drumming on the car’s dashboard, but the look Joel gave him made him pull his hands back. After only a few minutes of quiet, Joel screwed up his face, looking like he’d been punched in the gut. “Why would he have to shoot those two women?”

“Because he was a wacko.”

“Do you know what he was even saying to that girl?”

“Not a clue.”

“She should’ve known better.” Joel shook his head, his upper lip separating from his teeth as he grimaced. “You don’t give someone lip who’s holding a gun on you. I don’t care what the loon might be saying to you.”

“Maybe she was pissed.”

“And why would that be?”

“I dunno. Maybe she thought he was the one who grabbed her ass.”

Joel’s color paled as he looked at Hoffer. “What the fuck do you mean?”

Hoffer’s wide stupid grin came back. “She had a sweet ass, man. Like two big juicy peaches wrapped tight together.”

“Yeah, so?”

“So I couldn’t help myself. I took two big handfuls when I had my chance.”

“You really are an idiot.”

“Hey, how was I supposed to know that wack job was going to start hitting on her? Boy, though, she really let him have it. And shit, he really let her have it.”

Joel sat straight in his seat, his eyelids falling while he studied Hoffer. “Tell me again how you ended up getting arrested.”

“What for? I told you about that years ago.”

“I want to hear it again.”

Hoffer’s tongue wetted his lips while he thought about it. “There’s nothing really to say. I had too much to drink and was taking a leak in an alley when some high-strung little princess saw me and started yelling rape. That’s all it was, man.”

“That’s not what you told me before.”

“No?”

“No. What you told me was that you had a hooker in your car and she yelled rape when a cruiser pulled up.”

Hoffer’s eyes turned dull as he nodded. “Yeah, that’s the way it could’ve been.”

“You son of a bitch. You’ve been lying to me all these years. So you did try to rape some girl.”

“What difference does that make now? We got two bags of money in the trunk, one for you and one for me. That’s all that matters now.”

“What do you mean one for you and one for me?”

“We’re splitting the money. That’s what I mean.”

“Fuck you we’re splitting the money. You’re getting twenty percent.”

“I don’t think so.”

“You don’t think so? That was the deal, asshole.”

“The deal changed when you killed that wack job and cut out the Chief and his little Indian.”

“Says who?”

“Fair is fair.” Hoffer crossed his arms, his small pale eyes as hard as stone. “One way or another I’m getting half that money.”

As Joel looked at Hoffer, his car drifted over the center line and he had to swerve to avoid a head-on collision with a pickup truck. The driver of the pickup, red-faced and eyes bulging, blasted his horn and yelled bloody murder. Joel gave the driver a cold stare before turning straight ahead, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel.

“You want to rip me off and go back on our deal, fine,” he forced out, his voice barely a whisper. “We’ll split the money, asshole.”

“You’re giving me your word then? Fifty-fifty?”

“Isn’t that what I just did?”

“Man, just say it.”

“Fine. You have my word. We split the money. Anything else you want to extort out of me?”

Hoffer pumped a fist in the air. “Man, it’s only right that we do this. So we’ll divide it up when we get to your place.”

“Fuck you we will. Neither of us are touching that money until it’s been cooled off.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can be connected to Gordon. Which means there’s a chance the cops will come to me looking for that money.”

“So we’ll stash it at my place.”

“You really are an idiot, aren’t you? If the cops can connect me to Gordon, they can connect you to me. I got twenty acres. We’ll bury the money on my property.”

Hoffer’s wide face seemed to shrink as he thought over what Joel was suggesting. “I have a better idea. You hide one bag, I’ll find a safe place for the other.”

“Sorry, pal, this is too important. I’m not betting my life on you not doing something stupid.”

“I don’t see what the big deal is-”

“I already told you, and besides, I gave you my word. That’s not good enough for you?”

Grudgingly, Hoffer accepted that it was.

“You’ve known me, what, fifteen years? Have you ever known me to go back on my word?”

“Okay, already, it’s good enough for me.”

Joel gave Hoffer a hard stare before facing straight ahead. When they arrived at his house, he had Hoffer take the duffel bags while he went to get two shovels. When he returned, Hoffer had one of the bags open.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“I need some money, man. I’m just taking a thousand bucks.”

“Show me what you got.”

Hoffer held up ten hundred-dollar bills. Joel made a face, but nodded. “Fine,” he said. “Put that money away and grab those bags.”

Hoffer shoved the bills into his pockets. They walked behind Joel’s house to a small clearing of grass. Beyond that were acres of woods. As they made their way through the woods, Hoffer spotted a forty-five caliber pistol sticking out of Joel’s waistband.

“Why are you bringing that?” he asked.

“For Chrissakes, use your brains. This is the gun I shot Gordon with. Why do you think I’m bringing it?”