get a fancy degree to—”
“I don’t have to. I know someone who has a fancy degree already.”
“Who?”
Cherelle hesitated. Through the years she had kept in touch with Risa from time to time, but always alone. She didn’t think Risa would approve of having a lowlife like Socks turn up on her doorstep. Especially not now, when she had turned herself into a classy nerd scholar. “Just someone.”
Socks shrugged. “Do what you like. I ain’t waiting for mine.”
She turned to Tim, who looked uncomfortable. “This is our big chance,” she said flatly. “I’m sick of getting two cents on the dollar because Socks doesn’t know a single fence that won’t hose him. Just give me a chance. You won’t be sorry. When I’m done, you’ll have enough to buy a big ol’ bathtub packed full of blow.”
Tim frowned. He hated it when he was in the middle of these two. He looked toward Socks. His friend had a stubborn line to his mouth.
“Tell you what,” Tim said as he pushed two figurines away from the rest. “This is for what we owe you for the blow, plus you’ll get us a few more ounces of pure, okay?”
Socks looked at the gold. “Gimme one more.”
Cherelle made a wailing sound.
Tim picked up an armband and took back one of the figurines. “Here. This is worth two of them.”
Socks sucked on his lower lip and eyed the rest of the gold. “Okay, but you ride to Vegas with me. I’m sick of following that sorry wreck she drives.”
“Sure,” Tim said. “Radio in her car doesn’t work anyway.”
Cherelle watched unhappily as Socks wrapped his two artifacts in greasy napkins and shoved them in his backpack. She really hated letting any of that gold go. Despite her brave talk, she wasn’t certain just how much any of it was worth. She might need all of it to crawl out of the hole her life had become.
Humming, Tim wrapped his gold in shorts or socks or whatever came to hand from the garbage bag that was also his suitcase. As soon as he was finished, he began stuffing his ten pieces of loot into the backpack that went with him everywhere. Eight went in easy. The ninth was a struggle.
“Careful!” Cherelle said. “If you ruin that other armband, it won’t be worth as much. Same for that pin. And—”
“Here,” Tim said, shoving two of the underwear-wrapped packages toward her. “Now get off my ass, okay?”
“Hey!” Socks said unhappily. He already thought of that gold as his own, but he was just smart enough not to say it out loud. Tim wasn’t as easy to lead around as he had been before he hooked up with Cherelle. She was one ball-breaking bitch.
“Relax, buddy,” Tim said with an easy smile. “She’s going to Vegas, too. Right, precious?”
“But now she’s got most of it,” Socks said.
It was too late. Cherelle had already grabbed the two pieces of Tim’s gold and put them in the ratty backpack/purse that doubled as an overnight bag for her. “See you in Vegas, boys. Same place, right? Motel near your mama’s house?”
“Yeah.” Tim grabbed Cherelle, buried his face in her cleavage, and made bubbling noises. “Don’t be late.”
“No shit,” Socks muttered. “The bitch has most of the gold.”
“I won’t,” Cherelle said, ignoring Socks.
Tim scooped up his backpack in one hand and grabbed his buddy’s backpack with the other. “C’mon. Let’s go see that pawnbroker in Vegas. He’s gotta be better than the one in Sedona.”
“But the bitch has most of the gold!”
“C’mon, man,” Tim said. “We do it your way and we have a real catfight. We do it her way and the worst that happens is we get some money now and a lot more money later. What’s your problem with that?”
Socks was still trying to explain his problem when the car doors slammed and the engine revved to life.
Chapter 13
Las Vegas
November 2
Morning
T he white-walled, Persian-carpeted room was quiet except for the occasional sound of paper when Shane turned a page in one of the
“I don’t have to. I know someone who has a fancy degree already.”
“Who?”
Cherelle hesitated. Through the years she had kept in touch with Risa from time to time, but always alone. She didn’t think Risa would approve of having a lowlife like Socks turn up on her doorstep. Especially not now, when she had turned herself into a classy nerd scholar. “Just someone.”
Socks shrugged. “Do what you like. I ain’t waiting for mine.”
She turned to Tim, who looked uncomfortable. “This is our big chance,” she said flatly. “I’m sick of getting two cents on the dollar because Socks doesn’t know a single fence that won’t hose him. Just give me a chance. You won’t be sorry. When I’m done, you’ll have enough to buy a big ol’ bathtub packed full of blow.”
Tim frowned. He hated it when he was in the middle of these two. He looked toward Socks. His friend had a stubborn line to his mouth.
“Tell you what,” Tim said as he pushed two figurines away from the rest. “This is for what we owe you for the blow, plus you’ll get us a few more ounces of pure, okay?”
Socks looked at the gold. “Gimme one more.”
Cherelle made a wailing sound.
Tim picked up an armband and took back one of the figurines. “Here. This is worth two of them.”
Socks sucked on his lower lip and eyed the rest of the gold. “Okay, but you ride to Vegas with me. I’m sick of following that sorry wreck she drives.”
“Sure,” Tim said. “Radio in her car doesn’t work anyway.”
Cherelle watched unhappily as Socks wrapped his two artifacts in greasy napkins and shoved them in his backpack. She really hated letting any of that gold go. Despite her brave talk, she wasn’t certain just how much any of it was worth. She might need all of it to crawl out of the hole her life had become.
Humming, Tim wrapped his gold in shorts or socks or whatever came to hand from the garbage bag that was also his suitcase. As soon as he was finished, he began stuffing his ten pieces of loot into the backpack that went with him everywhere. Eight went in easy. The ninth was a struggle.
“Careful!” Cherelle said. “If you ruin that other armband, it won’t be worth as much. Same for that pin. And—”
“Here,” Tim said, shoving two of the underwear-wrapped packages toward her. “Now get off my ass, okay?”
“Hey!” Socks said unhappily. He already thought of that gold as his own, but he was just smart enough not to say it out loud. Tim wasn’t as easy to lead around as he had been before he hooked up with Cherelle. She was one ball-breaking bitch.
“Relax, buddy,” Tim said with an easy smile. “She’s going to Vegas, too. Right, precious?”
“But now she’s got most of it,” Socks said.
It was too late. Cherelle had already grabbed the two pieces of Tim’s gold and put them in the ratty backpack/purse that doubled as an overnight bag for her. “See you in Vegas, boys. Same place, right? Motel near your mama’s house?”
“Yeah.” Tim grabbed Cherelle, buried his face in her cleavage, and made bubbling noises. “Don’t be late.”
“No shit,” Socks muttered. “The bitch has most of the gold.”
“I won’t,” Cherelle said, ignoring Socks.
Tim scooped up his backpack in one hand and grabbed his buddy’s backpack with the other. “C’mon. Let’s go see that pawnbroker in Vegas. He’s gotta be better than the one in Sedona.”
“But the bitch has most of the gold!”
“C’mon, man,” Tim said. “We do it your way and we have a real catfight. We do it her way and the worst that happens is we get some money now and a lot more money later. What’s your problem with that?”
Socks was still trying to explain his problem when the car doors slammed and the engine revved to life.
Chapter 13
Las Vegas
November 2
Morning
T he white-walled, Persian-carpeted room was quiet except for the occasional sound of paper when Shane turned a page in one of the
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