Easy Money, Hard Problems
Short Story — A parking lot attendant moonlighting as a car thief winds up in over his head after a “promotion” from his illicit employer
On my taxes, I’m a valet parking lot attendant. But I pay my bills cloning keys, planting trackers, and snapping Polaroids of every high value car that rolls onto my lot. At the end of each week, I turned over a scrapbook of easy-to-steal rides to my boss, the man in the black Bronco.
His crew is patient. I’ve seen them wait months to move on a mark. By then, the poor sap doesn’t even remember me; the common thread linking these cases together. Each score nets me a fat finders fee; cash in an envelope, stuffed in my glove box.
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