“I have three jars of liquid stink,” Connie told Lula. “You’re going to have to dump them at strategic locations, and then get out before you throw up.”

“Sure. I could do that,” Lula said.

“You’re going to need to sneak upstairs and dump a jar in front of the counting room,” Connie said. “Then dump another at the back door and another in the front of the funeral home. Try not to get it on top of the deceased. I have the rocket launcher as backup, but it’s a last resort. We don’t want Sunflower to think he’s being attacked.”

The funeral home looked business-as-usual when Connie rolled by. A few men in dark suits stood to the side of the front door. They were smoking and quietly talking. Several cars were parked at the curb. We dropped Lula off at the corner, and I handed her the small tote bag with the three jars.

“Good luck,” I said. “I’ll be waiting at the back door for you.”

Lula walked down the sidewalk, and Connie turned into the alley and parked behind the mortuary’s Dumpster. Sunflower’s Ferrari was parked in the small lot, and a Dodge Minivan was parked next to the Ferrari. I took the large tote bag containing a respirator mask, and I walked to the back door and stood to one side. I had some butterflies in my stomach, but I was focusing now. Get the job done, I thought. Steal the money. Give it back. Save Vinnie’s miserable butt. Do some food shopping. I was making a list. Milk, bread, orange juice, beer, an apple for Rex, toilet paper, bullets.

The back door to the funeral home creaked open and Lula looked out at me. “Show time,” she said. “Looks to me like the best place to hide is the cellar. You could stand on the stairs. Just make sure you put the mask on, ’cause I’m gonna dump stink there.”

Lula stood in the middle of the hall, shielding me from sight, and I scooted through the cellar door and held tight two steps down. Lula closed the door, and I was in total blackness.

Good thing I’m not claustrophobic, I thought. Or afraid of the dark. Okay, maybe I was a little claustrophobic and afraid of the dark, but I could deal. That’s what separates the men from the girls, right? The girls can deal.

I heard muffled conversation through the door. It was flowing down the hall from the public viewing room. I put the mask on and adjusted the straps. Hard to believe I would need a mask for a stink bomb. I mean, how bad could it be? I had my cell phone in hand, waiting for Connie’s call. I checked the time by the phone. It was going on five minutes. Conversation turned loud, and people were in the hall, jostling against the cellar door, gagging and shrieking, trying to get out the back door as fast as possible. A few more minutes passed and my phone buzzed with a text message from Connie.