Leo hung up. He had nowhere to go. He sat on the last stool at the bar.

“One beer,” he said.

The bartender set a bottle in front of him. Leo took a long pull. It was ice cold and terrible. Exactly what he needed.

The place was almost empty. A neon light blinked in the back. A dead pinball machine stood in the corner. An old ceiling fan turned slowly as if annoyed someone had woken it. For a few minutes everything seemed to straighten out. Maybe he would get out clean. The garage would come, he would pay, he would leave before another soul laid eyes on him.