Out side the motel they shared, Jared heard banging on doors and shouting. Jumping up from bed, in just his boxers, he pulled the curtain a little, peered through the dirty window and spotted the police car.
“Shit,” Jared said under his breath.

“Whatsamatter babe?,” Britney said sleepily.

“Get up. Cops are here.”

Throwing clothes in a bag, quickly putting on his sneaker and a t-shirt and jeans, Jared got the keys to the car and opened the door slightly and looked out, the chain still on the door.

Britney was still naked and high.
“Get dressed”, Jared demanded.

“Okay, okay, babe, don’t get your boxers in a bunch,” she laughed at her own lame joke.

A policeman knocked hard on the door.
When the man in t-shirt and jeans opened the door, the officer looked at the skecth in his hand and looked up at the man, just as a bullet lodged in his throat.

Jared grabbed a half naked Britney and raced to the car and sped away.

The officer’s hand still clutching the composite picture of the fleeing murderers.