Keller drove the damaged Shevy into an empty lot off the highway.
The rear window of the car was completely shattered, and the trunk was punched full of rifle holes. Keller shut off the engine behind a stack of shipping containers where nobody could see them from the road.
"Move," Keller said quietly as he got off the car.
Both men worked fast and without a word after, as Keller grabbed a screwdriver, stripped off the rental plates, and tossed them into his backpack. Harris pulled on a pair of rubber gloves and wiped down the steering wheel, the gear shift, and every door handle with a rag soaked in bleach.
When they were finished with everything, they pulled their caps low, stepped out onto the sidewalk, and caught a yellow cab two blocks down.
Twenty minutes later, the two were inside a cheap motel room near the airport. The curtains were shut trying to lay low for the time being.
