“Well, how the hell will anybody know we took some money, Coy? There’s three cabinets full here. The little bit the two of us can carry out won’t even make a dent in what’s left. If anybody does get suspicious about some money missing, it’ll be Harper that gets the blame. Not us.”

One thing I can say is that my little brother has always been able to make a hell of an argument. Enough so that we caused more trouble than we solved. Marshall’s words got me thinking now, and he saw how he got to me.

“Why don’t you stand there and think about it while I set aside some cash? When you’re done thinking you can help me carry it out.”

Marshall felt around his pockets like he was playing a game of pocket pool. “Fuck, you know what? I forgot to bring any trash bags. You did so much bitching about us not bringing flashlights I didn’t think about it.”

“Don’t blame that shit on me, Marshall.”

He waved off my words while he tried to think and said, “You think old Lew’s got any in this building of his?”

“We could empty out one of his tool bags.”

“You sure you don’t need to think about that some more, Coy?”

I gave my brother the finger and turned to pull myself out of the hole, but cold steel nudged me backward, and I looked up into the twin barrels of a shotgun.

“What’re y’all boys doing down here?”

3.

Andrea Lewellen looked down at me with the prettiest eyes. Her sandy-colored hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail like she’d never left her cheer squad behind, and she came to greet us in a thin robe that didn’t do much for modesty’s sake; and the way she stood above me let me enjoy the view. She caught the way I looked at her, stepped away from the edge of the hole, and aimed the shotgun at me like she remembered the day I boot-scooted all over her heart.

She switched her aim to Marshall when he stepped forward and said, “You better aim that gun somewhere else, girl.”

I put a hand out for my brother to know he needed to take a backseat on this one. If anybody was going to be behind the wheel now, it ought to be me. I could charm Andy into giving me the gun and didn’t think she had the sack to shoot me anyway. I might have broken her heart, but she was a resilient girl, and we recreated some memories the last time we spoke.

Marshall got the message, put his hands up, and stepped behind me. Andy let both barrels follow him and then let her aim settle back on my chest. I raised my hands to my shoulders and gave her a smile that always got her to let me push her doorbell. I guess the fog of sleep crossed her wires because her aim raised from my chest to my forehead.