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back from meeting with the consigliere .” Taz got a kick out of saying that word. “List is a go. Gonna set up a meet to do the charter formation and patch-in.”
    “Sounds good. Ben stared at the ground and kicked at the imprint of caked mud left behind by Mallory’s boot treads. “You look a bit wound up there.”
    No shit. He was tight as a string, considering his little afternoon lunch at the pussy buffet. “Need some action, man.”
    “I can tell. But feeding your fists to those guys would’ve been bad. Not with our impressive resumes.”
    Taz knew about Ben’s past and jail time. Hell, they’d all done stretches, ranging from misdemeanors to assault and weapons charges. Taz had paid his dues after he turned thirty, when a little information extracting went awry. He’d left a guy with little to no ear cartilage. Turned out the guy’s cousin was a cop, who’d wound up trapping Taz on the road with an unregistered weapon and the registration expired on his bike, which was his own stupid fuck-up. Now, targets were picked wisely, usually with Big Ben in tow to handle any final clean up. But a dry spell was trying his patience. “I know. Just……shit, Ben, if I don’t get my hands dirty soon I’m gonna climb the walls.”
    The big Skull smiled , no doubt understanding Taz’s dilemma. “Got a proposition for you.”
    Taz twirled the poi nt of his beard. “I’m listenin’.
    “I’m off Wednesday. Need to take some small trees down in the back yard. Wanna come over and give me a hand?”
    It was intriguing enough for Taz’s black eyes to light up. “Do I get to use an ax?”
    Ben grinned. “Better. Got a brand new chainsaw.”
    “I love you.”

Chapter Four
     
    The following two days, Karen concentrated on getting her ducks in a row. She had heard from Jane Marsh, who’d spoken with her former supervisor. Everything was a go for Karen to start at the bank next Monday. With a paycheck in the works, she felt settled enough to move onto the next task at hand – getting out of this motel room.
    She spent most of Tuesday organizing her stuff. After washing her clothes at the local laundromat, she used the iron and board provided in the motel room to press everything nice and crisp before hanging them up. She then allowed herself two hundred dollars from her savings to do a bit of shopping for any incidentals she’d need, then grabbed something for dinner on the way back.
    Later that night, she changed into her workout clothes , then spread her Pilates mat on the floor of the motel room. She switched the satellite television to a calming music channel before lying down. Arms overhead, she stretched, elongating her body from tip to toe, feeling the anxiety of the last several days leave her. Even though she willed herself not to think about anything while in this state, she couldn’t help it. Her mind went to her conversation Monday evening with first her father, then her mother. The former had gone well, as Ed Hanson’s concern was only for his daughter’s welfare and safety. She assured him she was okay, had landed a job and was going apartment hunting as soon as she had a few paychecks under her belt for good measure.
    The latter conversation, of course, had gone a bit differently.
    “A ‘Super 8’, Karen,” Betsy had scoffed. “ Really?”
    “There aren’t any Hiltons around here. Oh, and by the way – I’m fine.”
    “So you got a job?”
    “At a bank, in Tippitt.”
    “Where?”
    “North of where I’m staying. First place that offered.”
    “Doing what?”
    Karen really hated talking to her mother. “Teller.”
    There was silence followed by a disappoint ed sigh . “My God, Karen. You have a business degree and you’re going to cash checks and take rolled coins for a living?”
    This conversation was over. “I have to go. Say hit to Shelia and Sam. I’ll check in over the weekend.”
    She couldn’t hang up fast enough.
    Wednesday morning, she lay in bed listening to the