Tim opened the bag. His eyes nearly popped.
“It looks like hundreds of thousands of dollars.”
“Could be, Tim. I haven’t counted it yet.”
“Where did you find this bag of money?”
“In the first van.”
Tim examined the bag, aghast, leafing through the green contents. “Hannah, there are wads of Franklins, Hamiltons, Grants and dead presidents here! Do you have any idea how much is here?”
“No. Like I said, Tim, I haven’t had time to count it yet.”
Tim continued palming through the currency. “There is enough in here, Hannah, to go off the grid.”
“That’s why I thought of you.”
Tim checked his watch. He reached for his fedora, and opened the door. “Show time in five minutes, Hannah.” He reached into his pocket, and withdrew a keychain. “Do you remember my old place, on Belmont?”
