“You gave me that .22 that day, about a week before you went up the river. With the money from that airport heist. You told me to hide them both and get rid of the gun when it was safe.”

“Connie, I need the money. Some people are after me. They don’t want to talk.”

Her rouged cheeks are streaked with black lines. “Jimmy. He’s going to kill you because you did his brother. Where did you shoot him? I have to know. Tell me where you shot him.”

“Connie?”

“Please, Jake, I have to know how he died.”

I look at her.

“Back of the head, all eight shots,” I tell her. “With a .22 caliber, they take a lot of lead to die, even at that range.” I’m speaking in a flat voice, like it’s nothing, which it’s not. “He and I went up the highway to do some gambling, maybe catch a few whores. We’d just made a big score at the airport and I had to go up the river on that late-night charge in a week. I knew what he did to you. I was just stringing him along. No one knew where we’d gone. We were drinking the whole way, talking like we were buddies. Frank had to take a piss. I pulled off the road and said I had to take one, too. Ba-da-bing.”

Connie looks very sad. “I hated Frank for what he did. I’m glad he’s dead.”

“Look, I’m sorry. I should have okayed it with you first.” I kiss Connie, hoping that will make her stop crying, not that it ever did before. “I’m going to get whacked if I can’t hit the road before Tuesday. Maybe even then.” I take a deep breath, telling myself this is the last time I’ll ask her. “Where’s the money?” I ask, knowing the answer.

Connie takes my wrist, draws my hand to her face, kisses the fingertips with sticky lipstick-disaster lips. Slowly, she spreads her legs as she guides my hand down between her parted thighs. She presses my fingertips into her crotch, and I feel the slick wetness of her cunt, the full lips, the exquisitely sculpted clitoris, the smear of lube that’s dribbled down from where Mickey had fucked her ass. Gently, Connie prods my finger and I press it into her tight cunt. She gives a little gasp as I do, like her cunt’s real tender. My eyes are the ones full of tears, this time.

“It’s still itchy,” she tells me. “And it hurts a little. But it’s the best money can buy. I did it about six months ago. I’m sorry, Jake. I’m sorry. I knew you’d be back, but I just had this chance to be happy, is all…and I couldn’t say no.”

“Oh, Connie,” I whisper sadly.