TenChicago › Tuesday, December 2, 2008 › 23h30
Cowboy slid a white plastic card-key out from a hard pack of Dunhills and passed it across a skinny-booth table at the Denny’s. “Is this what you’re looking for?” he said coolly.
Pretty Boy’s eyes widened. He snatched the card-key from Cowboy’s hand and curiously rubbed its dull plastic surface, turning it between his fingers, examining its imprint and punch-hole pattern as he spoke. “You’ve found it,” he squealed. Then he rolled his eyes up and creased his forehead. “That was quick.”
Cowboy shrugged. “It was in the guy’s office. But it’s not much good without its twin.”
Pretty Boy ignored the comment. “Did you get the computer?”
Cowboy removed his hat and wiped his forehead. “No,” he said, pulling a smoke from the pack, then replacing it
