Chapter 8

Maya was ready about forty-five minutes later and they were in the car ten minutes later.

“What time did you say we'd meet them?” Leo asked, typing madly on her small tablet. 

“Seven fifteen.” Maya was also typing away on her phone, thumbs a blur. Sam took the corner too fast, Maya grabbing the Jesus bar and also bracing herself on the door handle. 

“It's seven, now.” Leo sighed. “It will take us at least twenty minutes to get to the garage and ten to set up. Why are we leaving so late? Again?”

“I just had some issues getting out of the house!” Maya snapped. “God! Would you take a chill pill?”

“This isn't how professionals conduct themselves.” Leo snapped back, putting her tablet down. “They show up early, not late!”

“In case you hadn't noticed,” Maya crossed her arms. “We are not professionals. We are criminals. The rules don't apply to us.”

“Laws or no; common decency does apply. Being late is RUDE. And I don't recall being the one who recommended a life of crime as alternative employment.”

“I also don't recall you objecting once you realized we could make a bundle.”

“Fair enough.” Leo nodded. She took a deep breath. “Listen, this life and job is fine. I just need you to tell me when we are supposed to be places so we can get there on time. But not so early we get caught. That's all.”

“I'm sorry.” Maya said. “I was just a bit scattered.”

“Not a problem.” Leo said. They braced as Sam took another dangerous corner. 

“It would be nice to get there in one piece.” Maya said pointedly. 

“Or without a speeding ticket.” Leo raised an eyebrow. “Considering our trunk is lined with a smugglers box containing about thirty thousand dollars of illegal weapons and contraband.”

“Whaaat?” Sam smiled. He was lounging in the drivers seat; one hand on the steering wheel, the other grasping an energy drink. “I'm shaving off time we lost.”

“Try not to get us pulled over.” Leo patted his shoulder. 

Zoe FleischerComment