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“Enough!” Al shook his head.What the fuck? Okay, so he couldn’t be too much of a hypocrite because technically he was cheating on these women from the start. But it was different because they knew the deal when they auditioned.

“Can you tell how old the, uh, deposits, are?” he asked while Diane choked on her potato salad.

“Jesus, Al,” she said between coughs. “Deposits?”

He rolled his eyes.

“Not really.” Hunter pounded his sister on the back. “Or at least, not well enough to determine if they were doneby someone who was sent home weeks ago. I’m guessing that’s what you’re getting at?”

Al nodded. “Yeah. Diane, what do you think? You’ve been filming the women when I’m not around. That’s probably when all this fucking is happening. Have you seen any of the women hooking up with someone else?”

Diane shook her head, looking a light shade of green. “Nope. Nothing at all.”

“Damn, well, do me a favor and keep an eye out, okay? I won’t say anything to embarrass them on camera. I can always come up with an excuse to send them home. I just need to be sure I’m not picking someone who is into someone else. They might not want to do the wedding show in that case.”

“The wedding show? Are you seriously considering that?” Hunter’s mouth dropped.

“Yeah? I mean, no. I don’t know.” His eyes searched the room, looking for Jeannie.

“Okay, well, good luck with that.” Hunter shook his head. “While I’m here, there’s something else I wanted to talk to you about. Work related.”

“And that’s my cue.” Diane stood up and grabbed the empty plates from the table. “Hunter, when you’re ready, we’ll film in the kitchen next.”

Al shuddered, thankful the food they’d eaten had been catered. “What’s up?”

“I looked into that case you asked me about, and I think you have reason to be concerned.”

“Seriously? What did you find?”

“I don’t want to say too much now, but how about you tell me what you know? I saw your name mentioned a few times in connection with Ben’s priors, so I’m guessing you have first-hand knowledge about how a loitering complaint turned into a conviction for drug trafficking and attempted murder.”

Al snorted. “I wish I could. I’ve been trying to figure that out for years. It all started with laundry detergent and a MILF.” He sighed and told Hunter about the last day he’d spent with Ben outside of prison.

“Shit, do you hear that?”

Al looked up from the massive trunk of the Buick, full of Tide detergent bottles. “Sirens?”

“Yeah,” Ben answered. “That damn Trixie.”

Al shook his head and laughed. “You shouldn’t have hooked up with her mom.”

“Aw, come on. You’ve seen Mrs. Anderson. She’s so hot. How could I not hit that?”

Al slammed the trunk closed and tossed Ben the keys. “Come on, let’s get out of here. We’ll send out a new drop date and get these sold later.”

“Can you believe what our life has come to? Black market laundry detergent dealers?” Ben sat in the driver’s seat and laughed.

Al shrugged as he buckled his seat belt. “It could be worse. We could be slinging burgers forty hours a week. What was it our teachers always said? ‘Work smarter, not harder.’”

Ben turned the key to crank the car, but nothing happened. “Ah shit.” He tried again, but the car would not start.

“Don’t do this to me, Ben,” Al warned. “We gotta go. The sirens are getting louder.”

“Come on, come on,” Ben whispered to his car. “You can do it, Bertha.” After a few more tries, he slammed his hand on the dashboard. “Fuck!”

“There’s still time. We can make a run for it.” Al opened the door and stepped out.

“I know you’ve been working out, but even you can’t run carrying fifty bottles of liquid Tide.”