Seven Crumpled Dollar Bills on a Pine Table in Michigan

glowed.”

Mike sat up, his boots pressing against the rubber floor mat. He did not touch the ignition key.

“Keep your distance,” Mike said into the plastic microphone. “We are only watching.”

“Understood,” Shark replied. “The legal paperwork is already printed for the ten o’clock filing.”

Mike watched the front porch of the house. No lights came on, but continue reading …