“I checked them out on the net, how do you think? I even saw the blueprints. That’s how I know about the kid. Cricket applied for a permit to build a pool in his yard so the kid can train. Construction was supposed to start two weeks ago. Guess there was some kind of snafu, or the shooting set it back. The kid wants to go to the Olympics. Look! This is a postcard from the kid. He’s at some swim camp for the summer. It’s good to know stuff like that. Knowledge is power. How many times do I have to tell you that, Mig?”

“C’mon, be straight with me, Al. What are we doing here? Why this place?”

Alonzo cuffed Miggy on the side of the head and snarled. “Where did you think we should go, Mig? Name me one place where all of us would be safe. We had an hour, possibly an hour and a half, to make tracks. In a way, it was pure dumb luck that I had researched this place before we did the hit for Mr. Hot Shot. That killing Cricket would also earn us a place in the Lobos was a real bonus. I revisited it again afterward in more detail. There weren’t any other options unless you know of some, and if you do, please share them with me. Why are you questioning me anyway?”

“Because I’m scared, that’s why. I don’t want to go to prison. We shoot this guy Cricket, he almost dies but doesn’t, which means we’re on the hook to the Lobos, then we take up residence in the guy’s house. That’s why I’m scared. Then there is that little matter of twenty, that’s twenty, murders we committed for Mr. Hot Shot. If you aren’t scared out of your wits, then there’s something wrong with the way you’re wired. Another thing, what are we going to do if the wife comes home?”

“Now that’s a question I do not have the answer to as yet. If she shows up, then we’ll deal with it. Right now, we have enough to worry about without adding her to the mix. What’s worrying me the most is that Mr. Hot Shot isn’t answering any of my texts. I wonder if he’s on the run too.”