Ten Years Ago (Part 4)

"Oh shit," Manty squealed as the police prowl car followed, lights flashing. "What should I do?"

If they had taken his SUV and if he were driving, Howie Boy figured he would make a break for it and try to outrun the cop. With Manty being such a pussy and in his little four-cylinder sedan, they didn't stand a chance. "Only one thing to do. Pull over. You probably just have a taillight out or something."

Manty used his turn signal and drifted to the side of the road. Instead of pulling in behind them, the cop sped by.

Howie Boy laughed and sputtered, "He wasn't after us. What a rush!"

Manty gripped the steering wheel, breathing heavily. "I'm glad you enjoyed that. I damn near had a coronary."

"Nothing to worry about, he wasn't after us. Keep driving, I'll tell you when to exit."

They drove on. Manty's non-stop complaining grated on Howie Boy's nerves.

"With this amount of cash missing, the police are going to pull out all the stops," Manty argued. "They'll keep investigating until they find us. We might not be on video, but someone will remember something. Maybe the guys in lost-and-found will think we acted suspiciously, or maybe the security guard with the carrier of coffee will recall us lurking over his shoulder—"

"—Maybe the sky will fall," Howie Boy interrupted. "Look, there are no worries. We got away with it. Besides, what if someone does remember us? What are the cops going to be able to do with that information? There are thousands of guys who look like us who attended that show."

Manty said nothing for a long time. Howie Boy also kept quiet until they reached their exit. "Get off here at Millerstown. Turn right at the stop sign, then left when we get to the square in town."

After they executed the two turns and crossed the Juniata River, Howie Boy thought Manty had finally calmed down. They drove on for a while until the nerd opened his mouth again.

With only one hand on the wheel, Manty gestured with his other hand. "You know what I don't understand? Your family is wealthy. You have all the money in the world. What does this cash mean to you? Why are you insisting on taking such a risk in keeping it?"

An interesting question. For once, Howie Boy didn't feel irritated Manty had asked and actually wanted to explain. "You're right. It really isn't about the money. It's about the thrill of having done something so epic. Don't you feel alive right now? No drug high can compare to this."

"Right, we won't feel so alive when we get caught."

Howie Boy laughed. "There you go again. We aren't going to get caught. Think about it. With this cash, you'll be able to pay off all your student loans. The convention center just provided you with a free college education. You should be happy."

A few beats later, Manty spoke up. "Are you really going to let me keep half?"

"Of course. We're equal partners."

"And you don't care what I do with my half?"

"Why should I?"

Manty made a sudden hard left onto a side road almost crashing into a kid's school bus shelter. Howie Boy was thrown against the passenger door. "What the hell are you doing? I didn't tell you to turn here."

"I'm looking for a driveway or a turn around."

"What for?"

"I'm taking my half back."

The nerd's stubbornness and stupidity drove Howie Boy past the limit of his patience. "Pull over."

Manty shot a glance his way. "Why?"

"Because I'm kicking you out and taking your car. If you're going to be such a dumb ass, you don't deserve any of this cash."

When Manty didn't do what he asked, Howie Boy reached over and grabbed the wheel. "I said to pull over."

The two men struggled, fighting for control of the car. Howie Boy saw the curve in the road too late. "Watch out, asshole!" He scrabbled for the door handle and jumped out as the car skidded off the roadway and plunged down an embankment.

Howie Boy opened his eyes and saw the full moon. Feeling confused, he lay flat on his back. "I must've blacked out for a little while. Where am I?"

It slowly came to him. Manty, the stupid twerp had run off the road. He sat and checked himself. Nothing seemed to be broken. He must've hit his head when he jumped from the car. How long had he been out? What happened to the cash? He stood and took a deep breath, felt in his pocket for his cell phone. To his relief, it wasn't busted, and he had a decent signal.

Good thing the moon was shining; it made finding his way easier. Taking care not to fall on his ass, he descended the bank and heard the rushing water from the river. He started to panic at the thought that Manty might have miraculously found a way to get back on the road, leaving him stuck out here in the sticks. Then he saw the moon reflecting off the ripples in the night and the car's rear window.

The damn thing had taken a nose dive into the river.

He heard coughing. Following the sound, he discovered the nerd sitting on the bank. The fool must've swum free. "Hey, are you alright?"

"This doesn't change anything," Manty said. "The money has to go back."

A wave of anger crept up Howie Boy's chest and into his face. He grabbed Manty by the collar and hoisted him to his feet. "Listen to me, dick wad, because we aren't having this conversation again. We're keeping the cash, and I don't want to hear another word about it."

Manty wheezed and spoke. "It's over, Howie Boy. I'm going to the police. I'm going to tell them everything."

Something inside Howie Boy snapped. He went stone cold. Acting on animal instinct, he grabbed Manty in a choke hold and dragged him down the bank and into the river. "I tried being reasonable with you," he shouted. "I was willing to let you keep your share. Why did you have to be such an asshole?"

He plunged the smaller, weaker man face first into the current. Manty struggled, but he stood no chance against the rage working within Howie Boy. A minute later, it was over.

Feeling no remorse, he wedged the lifeless corpse into the driver seat and buckled him in, staging the scene and making sure the nerd's head stayed submerged.

A great deal of cash had floated out of the sprung open trunk and got carried away in the current. He spoke to the corpse. "No big deal. That was your half."

Howie Boy secured the steamer trunk and managed to drag it free of the car and up the bank. He rested for a moment to get his bearings. He needed someplace to hide until someone could come for him. That's when he remembered the kid's bus shelter. It would do nicely.

Slogging along with his water-soaked clothing, he half carried, half drug the trunk the rest of the way up the bank. The racket made by dragging the trunk along the road surface spooked him. Too much noise. Being August, the shoulder of the road was lush with weeds. He kept the trunk in the weeds which made the going tougher, but a lot quieter.

The high he experienced earlier at the thrill over stealing the cash returned when he reached the bus shelter. Howie Boy hid the trunk within the shelter and plopped onto one of the benches.

He stifled laughter after realizing not only was he going to get away with stealing the cash, he was also going to get away with murder. If he could get away with all that, nothing could stop him. Someday, he would make those NFL pricks pay for snubbing him. Quickest way to do that would be to become a politician. It would give him the power to make their lives miserable.

Howie Boy pulled his cell phone and punched in his father's number. "Hello, Dad," he said when his father answered. "I need you to send someone for me."

There it is, the truth about what happened ten years ago. Is that how you figured it to be?