We had fifteen hundred dollars in diner tip cash in a tin under our bed.

I pressed my thumb against my index finger twice under the edge of the desk.

The total came to forty-one thousand seven hundred dollars.

I folded the notice into four small squares and tucked it deep inside my purse.

At five past five, I walked out to the parking lot, where Nate was idling by the gate.

Ten minutes later, we turned off the blacktop onto the gravel lane.

The old Miller farmhouse sat two hundred yards back from the road behind four bare oak trees.