The entity resumed control of the wheel and followed signs for Great Falls, Montana. I don’t remember the drive. I do remember arriving at the junkyard and stepping outside to pull the plate and place it in my bag as well.
It was on the edge of town. Pine trees to the left, a field of rusted metal ahead, a chain link, barbed wire gate before the building, that yellow box I’d seen earlier in my mind, and a McDonald’s on the right.
But there were no lights on inside the single floor, red brick building. Only a sign that said CLOSED.
The twilight sky told me why. Only tiny yellow rays of sun trickled at the edge of the horizon.
That was okay. I had work later, but there was enough time to make it back and pretend none of this had happened.
The entity had put all seven thousand dollars of my savings into my bag. I wanted to open a bakery in a few years, and this was every penny I’d saved since getting to the ranch. But staying out of prison mattered more than the bakery.
Unzipping my bag, I gazed down at the array of twenties and fifties. After an exasperated exhale, I began counting. When I made it to a thousand, I laid the sum in my lap. I counted out another thousand and laid it on the dashboard. The other five thousand? I zipped up.
Into each of my jacket pockets, I tucked a thousand.
Now, to find someone as desperate for money as I was to get away with this.
It didn’t take long. I made it two blocks down the street before someone caught my eye. A middle-aged man with a scruffy, unkempt beard, a black zip up hoodie, and a heavy-duty puffer coat over top. He sat on a red flannel blanket. Beside him was an old, even scruffier mutt. His fur was long, white close to the skin and varying shades of brown at the ends. Crust caked up the corners of his eyes. At the edge of the flannel blanket, a cardboard sign read, ‘Just trying to eat, man. God bless.’
Shame sat like a ten-pound weight in the center of my chest. I didn’t want to use this guy. Life had already chewed him up and spit him out.
But he could help me, and I could help him. At the end of it, even if the authorities ever questioned him, there was no way they would charge him with David’s murder. David had no connection to this city. He and Simone were from Wyoming. No connection to the city meant no connection to this man.
If they ever questioned him for what he was about to do for me, he could tell them the truth. I wouldn’t blame him if he did.
Slowing at the street corner, I rolled down my window. Twenty-dollar bill in hand, I held it to him.
The man on the flannel blanket was already standing, walking closer. Fingers outstretched to accept, he said, “Thank you, miss.”
Given all my clothing, I was surprised he could tell I was a miss. “I’ll give you a thousand if you do me a favor.”
Face wrinkling with confusion, he cocked his head to the side. “A thousand?”
“A thousand.”
“What’s the favor?” He glanced me over, then the backseat. “I don’t do no funny business, miss.”
“No funny business. I just need to junk this car down the street.”
“What—down at Tom’s?” The man nodded in the direction of the junkyard. “All you gotta do is run in.”
“Yeah, I know,” I lied. “I just—Well, it’s a long story. I’m not on good terms with the management. I know if I go in there, he’s not gonna give me a dime for it. And it’s not that I really care about the money, but my landlord doesn’t want this sitting outside my apartment anymore. It’s untitled, so if I don’t get rid of this thing, he’ll evict me. I really don’t want to see that guy, and I really gotta get rid of this car.”
“Wait.” He cocked his head to the side. “You want me to go in there, junk the car, and then take whatever money they’re going to give you for it?Andyou’re gonna pay me?”
“Yes, sir,” I said. “But they can’t just junk it. They’ve got to crush it.”
The man arched a brow, a half-smile tilting the corner of his lips. “And you can’t do it yourself because you got beef with the guy who works there?”
He didn’t believe me, but I still said, “Mhmm.”
The man snorted. “Alright. I’ll do it. But I’m freezing, so can I have a seat with you in here? And my dog?”
Maybe it wasn’t the most responsible decision, but it wasn’t like I’d made many of those tonight. “Sure. Come on. We’ll go wait for them to open.”
