I finally realized why Bill didn’t want any of it. I couldn’t put it in the bank without legitimizing it first, but I also couldn’t just write made up invoices and pay them in cash, since it would only take a single phone call for the IRS to know they were crap. I couldn’t open an offshore account to funnel the money through a shell company and make the invoices more believable either, since I wasn’t eighteen yet and lacked the contacts to get the cash into those offshore accounts in the first place. And even if I could find someone to launder the money for me, without word of it reaching the people I stole it from, they would take at least a sixty percent cut for laundering it before I’d have to pay income taxes on what was left. Maybe I should just use it for all the regular shopping over the years.
After work, I stopped by a grocery store to make good use of the newly discovered benefit of not being asked for an ID when shopping with a company credit card, went home to eat, and did some more research about what Bill had told me regarding those guys’ porn productions.
I was basically trying to ease my guilt with each video I found, telling myself that the women I saw could have been the women of my family. Especially after I had tracked a few of those women down and learned what had happened to them after their videos were sold and published. Then, I finally drank myself to sleep in the living room. Not that it took a lot for me, I would never be much of a drinker with the low tolerance I apparently have, but it was also around that time when I started shooting awake at night, driven by the urge to check every door and window in the house.
I had received word from Aaron that Logan did indeed reach someone on Thursday, albeit not the one he was expecting. The call was answered by someone Logan had never spoken to before, but who was quite interested in what he had to say, so I mentally prepared myself for visitors checking out his story.
They rang our doorbell on Saturday, Ava’s birthday, the day Logan had told them the family was supposed to be back.
“Yes?” I greeted the two men standing in front of me, after I had opened the door.
“Yeah, Hi. Logan around?” the taller one of the two asked.
I had scanned them the moment I opened the door, and knew there could be trouble when I noticed the same telling bumps underneath both of their shirts. Going by the size of those bumps, they were carrying guns instead of just knives or batons. The two in front of me looked nothing like the guys I had met in the parking lot, nor like the people I had seen on the bar’s surveillance. They were clearly not part of the Bookie’s crew, too young and dressed in pricey brands, so I suspected they belonged to the guys I stole from. Hopefully they were just going after the Bookie’s current affairs to try and get some of the money back, instead of looking for leads for where the money went.
“No, sorry. The rest of the family is out.” They shared a look when I told them that.
“You happen to know when he’s back gonna be back?”
I watched them for a moment in overplayed suspicion.
“What did the dipshit do this time?” I asked in an exasperated tone I hoped to be convincing, causing them to exchange another look.
“Come again?” The look on his face as he asked was a brilliant mix of confusion and suspicion.
“Let me take a wild guess. You’re going to UT Austin with Logan and he owes you money?” I asked, giving them a knowing look. “He has a habit of bailing on his bills.”
“Huh. That makes this a lot easier. Who’re you and how did you guess?”
“I’m Logan’s brother, and growing tired of fixing his shit. That’s how I guessed. So ... how much is it this time?” I was reaching for my wallet as I asked, playing my act.
I tried not to let them notice how my body tensed when me reaching for my wallet caused their hands to move part of the way to their guns. Any indication I gave that I was expecting more than just regular college mates of Logan’s, would give them cause to see through my already poor acting. They would know that I knew, making the family’s absence look like what it actually was: Protective hiding. I was just pulling through by overplaying my displeasure about Logan’s character, but I was surprised at how calm I really was. For some reason, the thought of this going bad for me wasn’t nearly as unnerving as it should have been.
“I’m afraid it’s more than you carry around.”
That caused me to look up in surprise. I was expecting them to just take the money I offered, and
“Wait ... how much does he owe you?”
“‘Bout ten grand.” he said, matter of fact, watching my reaction.
