By quarter to ten, the carpet is vacuumed, the sound system silent, and the cash register drawers tallied and locked in the store safe, located under the countertop in the back room. Bill thinks the place reeks of s*x—he still smells Jamal’s cologne in the air—but neither Angie nor the other two employees seem to notice. If they do, they don’t mention it. Bill grabs his coat off the rack and digs his cell phone from his pocket—there are Jamal’s missed calls, and there’s a recent text that just says one word: Outside.
At this hour, with the store entrance gated and locked, they use the exit that leads down the back hall and outside. The other two leave but Angie holds the door while Bill carries out a bag of trash. As they head down the well-lit corridor, Angie admits, “I was so sure that
