There were a dozen cars in the parking lot but none of them belonged” The three hurried down the stairs and along the first-floor hallway to the building’s rear door. They stared at each other in disbelief, then walked over to break the news to Mark.
He poked through the closet, looked in the bathroom, and yelled, “Shit! What happened?” “He got up and left,” she said. “He’s gone!” Todd scrambled out of the chair and walked past her to the bedroom, a small square space where hiding would be impossible. Seeing the bedroom door open she jumped to her feet, turned on the lights, and realized Gordy had managed to escape. At the first hint of sunlight, Zola awoke and sat up.
At the end of the hallway, he put on his boots and left the building.
He took a step into the den, saw their silhouettes on the sofa and in the chair, heard their heavy breathing, and silently walked to the door. He gently opened the bedroom door and listened. He knew they were in the den, waiting for him to make a move. “Holding his hiking boots, he stood by the door and listened. “Did we ask Darrell to show us his license? Of course not. All cash.” “But you don’t have a license,” Zola said. “I’ll bet Darrell nets a hundred grand a year hustling DUIs. What was his name?” “Darrell Cromley,” Zola said. Or maybe I’ll become a DUI specialist like that sleazeball we met last Friday at the city jail. “Maybe I’ll get a job tending bar, for cash, of course. What about work and income and those little challenges?” “I’ve been thinking about that,” Mark said and took a long swig. “I won’t take their calls.” “Okay, so they’ll put you on inactive status and notify your loan sharks and they’ll be out for blood.” “What if they can’t find me? What if I change phone numbers and move to another apartment? It would be easy to get lost in a city of two million people.” “I’m listening,” Todd said. My status will be day to day.” “Okay, but what are you going to do when the law school starts calling?” Todd asked. “If you don’t go to class, then what are your plans?” “I have no plans. When it was behind them, Mark asked, “Are you guys really going to class on Monday? I’m not.” “That’s either the second or the third time you’ve said that,” Zola said. They slowed and passed through the small town of Boyce.
Aren’t you?” “I’m beyond exhausted,” she said. Now we’re supposed to somehow push it all aside and hustle back to law school for our last semester, which will be followed by two months in hell studying for the bar exam, so we can do something to make a little money and start repayment, which, actually, is far more impossible than it seems, and it seems awfully damned impossible at the moment. “tossed in a prison to wait on deportation.
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