Mac had actually gotten shot saving Henry’s life. The sort of guy who should have been on the top of Henry’s Do Not Fuck With (In Any Sense of the Word) List, but since when had Henry played by the rules? Since never. I’ll bet there are a lot of other things you could do to get by.” He tried to remember what Mac had told him. He didn’t know how long he’d be away from Indianapolis, or what he might have to do in Zionsville. Not that he was here to pick any pockets. That was also one reason buses and subways were great places to pickpocket-so many people looking the other way. All these people crowded together, heading in the same direction, and they spent most of the journey trying not to notice anyone else. While Henry preferred cars-not always his own, and not always legally obtained-he liked the anonymity of public transport. All around him, people stared ahead or out the window or at the floor. Henry Page took the bus up 65 toward Zionsville.
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