“Go! Go! Go!” June yelped before the door had even shut. I jammed the gas to the floor and was pinned to the seat as the Grand National’s tires screached under the sudden power thrown at them through the axles.

“Where’s Niles!?” I yelled over the air rushing through the car.

“Guard got ‘em, Jim! He’s dead!” she yelled.

More money for June and me. I regretted the terrible thought immediately.

I was concentrating on the road, but watching June too. She pulled the wig and shades off in a quick motion, exposing her golden hair. She tossed the disguise out of the window.

I swung the car around the corner of 3rd and Broad, coming inches from hitting a lowrider.

June was doing her job. She separated the cash into one brief case, one duffel bag, and one backpack. Niles’ backpack. “I guess we’ll only need the two bags.” she said, gripping the Jansport backpack.

I slowed down as we entered the parking garage. I parked on level 2. Her car was one level up. Mine, one level down.