38
Mickey gets on the freeway. We're headed out of the city limits, towards the airport. The distant rush of 747 engines confirm it.
"So I'm the prime suspect, huh?" I say.
"Don't forget fugitive," Mickey says.
"You gonna throw in the stuff at the auto shop too?" I ask.
"What stuff?" Thomas says.
"Oh, nothing," I say.
"Like anyone gives a f**k about those spick bastards," Roach says.
"I'm curious," I say. "How are you selling this one in? You already filed your report. Accidental death, you said."
"Yeah, well that was before new evidence came to light," Roach says.
"What new evidence?" I say.
"That you got tired of the kid giving you s**t and decided to get rid of him."
"You think it'll stick?" I ask.
"Shouldn't be too hard," Thomas says. "You've done most of the work for us.
