With no seats available, the women slouched against the wall as they ate their pizza and gulped at their drinks. The conversation ranged from Annie's inability to get her white boots with the rhinestones to Harry's certainty that Ling Jun was going to win the competition to Jack saying Vegas sure knew how to make a good pizza.

All four men came around at the same time as they tried to figure out what had happened. Owens roared with rage, while the other three took in their surroundings with fear radiating from their pores.

Kathryn stirred from her spot against the wall and walked over to the embalming table. "Kathryn Lucas," she said by way of introduction. "I'm one of the vigilantes. We brought you here because we want something from you. If you don't give us what we want, we're going to embalm you right here on this table. You will, of course, have to tell us where to send the bodies when we're finished."

Words, some of which the women had never heard before, all of them curses, flew about the room.

"I'm not telling you anything, you'll go to jail for this. Do you hear me? Don't tell these bitches anything," Owens ordered.

"What do you want to know?" the three tied to the caskets asked.

"It's simple. How, what, when, why, and where's the money you ripped off the Strip?" Nikki asked.

"It was Owens's idea," Quintera revealed. "He said we'd be on easy street and no one would ever know. He said money is power, and we had it. The NGC couldn't touch us. Then that stupid girl came along and screwed things up just by being there. He was the mastermind. Stu got out. He just walked out of the casino today and never came back."

Owens struggled beneath the straps as he bellowed for Quintera to shut his mouth.

A crust of the pizza clutched between her teeth, Annie walked over to the embalming table and flicked at the hoses that drained into a huge outflow port on the floor. She removed the crust of pizza, and asked, "Which one is the intake and which one is the outflow?"

Kathryn pondered the question. "I think this one drains the blood and that one shoots in the embalming fluid. But, I'm not sure. Do you think it matters, Annie?"

Annie chomped down on the pizza crust. "Probably not. But I'm thinking maybe we should have practiced a little more. What if we make a mistake?"

"Oh, well!" Kathryn said.

"Where's your share of the money, Mr. Owens?" Annie asked.

"I know all about you women. You don't kill people, you just screw up their lives. I'm telling you dickshit."