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think it would be that much. I knew it didn’t matter. I had the money in my wallet. I had tons in my bank account, but still. It was going so fast. What if I couldn’t get to an ATM before I ran out of cash? What if Ashbury reported his card missing?
    What if Oxner did recognize me after all?
    I was getting nervous again.
    The cabdriver didn’t look so pleasant anymore. I guess he didn’t like the way I wasn’t paying him.
    I couldn’t spend any more money.
    â€œDo you take Visa?” I said.
    The guy wasn’t happy about it, but he took it. I gave him a ten-dollar tip and signed the slip. Four loops and a line.
    The guy tore off a copy of the receipt and handed it back to me. “Thanks, Mr. Ashbury,” he said. “Enjoy your stay.”

Chapter Fifteen
    I could feel sweat trickling down my back, my ribs, my stomach. I was going to ruin my suit. There’d be salt stains all over it.
    I was such an idiot! Why did I go and use the Visa? Now the cabdriver knew my name! What if there was a thing in the paper about the missing wallet? What if the cabdriver called the police?
    There was a guy in a uniform standing by the door of the hotel. “Are you all right, sir?” he said.
    â€œYeah, yeah, I’m fine,” I said. “Just a little warm. Any place I could get a drink around here?”
    â€œWe have a very nice bar just beyond the front desk, sir,” he said. He held the door open for me. The blast of air-conditioning felt good. I went to the bar.
    It was a classy place. Dark wood. Big armchairs. My grandmother would have liked the music they piped in. I sat at a table in the corner. The waitress came over pretty fast. I guess there wasn’t much else for her to do. The place was practically deserted.
    She put a napkin and a little bowl of peanuts on the table. She was pretty. I bet she was only about twenty-one.
    â€œWhat can I get you, sir?” she said.
    I probably should have ordered a martini or a scotch in a place like that, but I’m not big on hard liquor. That stuff makes you crazy. I saw what it did to my stepdad. I ordered a beer. She didn’t even ask for id. That calmed me down a bit.
    She brought the beer. I wanted it so bad, but I made myself pour it into the glass first.
    â€œWill you be keeping a tab, sir?” she said. I nodded. I didn’t know if I’d want another beer or not, but I couldn’t pay right then. I was too freaked out. I couldn’t touch the wallet. I didn’t even like thinking about it. I needed time.
    I downed half of the beer in one gulp. I waited for it to kick in. I ate some peanuts. I leaned back in the chair. I listened to the music. I was starting to feel better. I could think straight again.
    Things weren’t that bad. The guy lost a wallet with seventy-five bucks in it. Big deal. He’s not going to be calling the police about that! The cabdriver would have no reason to know the name Andrew Ashbury. He’d have no reason to remember me. He probably drove twenty people a day to the airport. A young guy in a suit. Why would he remember me?
    I was being a wuss. I was getting hysterical, like some old lady. I didn’t need to worry—about that anyway.
    I finished the beer. I called the waitress over. I ordered another. I asked her if there was an ATM around here.
    â€œThere’s one in the lobby, sir,” she said.
    My plan was changing. I went to the bank machine. There were taxis waiting out front. I punched in a five hundred-dollar withdrawal. If the card was declined, I’d just jump in one of the cabs and take off. I hoped the waitress wouldn’t be stuck paying my tab. I’d probably just go to the bus station from there.
    Turns out I didn’t have to worry. I got the five hundred dollars, no problem. I stuffed it in the side pocket of my wallet, away from the other money. It was my nest egg. I couldn’t touch it.
    My beer was waiting for me when I got