“I don’t know anything about him,” Gary said quickly. “He was just supposed to meet us here and exchange for the stuff. That’s it.”

“Where were you going to deliver it?”

“119 Broad Street.”

“And what’s coming my way now that you’ve warned your employer?”

“A shooter team.”

“How long do I have?”

“About two minutes.”

“See? Now was that so hard?” Rick stood up and walked to the bar. He reached behind it and picked up a small container.

“You—you!” Gary sputtered. “You do have it! You took that from Bob! You didn’t need to ask me about him.”

“Actually, we didn’t have time to exchange words once he realized I wasn’t you, unfortunately. So, I was hoping you had more information.”

“Listen to me!” Gary cried. “If you give the shooters what they want, you’ll live through this day.”

Rick grabbed a handful of the gems and stuck them in his pocket. “Sorry, I’m not in the habit of rewarding people who try to kill me.”