“Holy shit. Buried treasure.”

“Shhh.” Alice turns off the flashlight and they sit on the cold tile in total darkness.

“Mama, I told you it wasn’t makeup.”

“Where do you think a gal comes by about a thousand dollars in silver coin?”

Taylor grabs Alice, what turns out to be her arm in its pajama sleeve. “She stole it from the casino.”

“We don’t know that.”

“Okay, where’d she get it?”

Alice speaks reluctantly. “I’ve been studying on that for a couple of hours. So far I haven’t come up with a story I feel real positive about.”

“No wonder she came out of that hotel like a bat out of hell!” Taylor squeaks in a high whisper, “Okay, everybody, I’ve got my Bank Robbin’ Barbie ensemble on, let’s go!”

“Hush!”

“Mama, what do we do?”

“Call the police, I reckon.”

“No way. And get them on our case?”

“Taylor, the police aren’t after you.”

“No, but we’d have to identify ourselves. It would get in the news. Believe me, I know how that one goes. Me and Turtle and Francis the Pig are out of the hero business.”

“Well, we can leave her here, then.”

“Mama, you were the one that said we had to bring her.

She’s a pain in the butt, but still. We can’t just dump her in the middle of Death Valley. That would be like those guys marooned on that fishing boat.”

“It wouldn’t be just dumping her, she’s got coins. She wouldn’t have no trouble getting her way in a phone booth.”

Taylor smiles in the dark. “That hotel manager must be having a conniption. He was a creep. You lied to him, Mama.

Right in front of your own grandchild.”

Alice laughs. “I did lie. Like a rug.”

“It’s gambling money, anyway. It was wrongfully come by in the first place. It wasn’t really his.”

“Whose was it, then? And how come you’re on her side now? Ten hours ago you were ready to dump her off at a rest stop with no facilities.”

Taylor can’t answer the question. She reaches out in the dark and, as if guided, her fingers touch cold silver. “That money belonged to the hard-luck cases of Vegas,” she says.

“Part of it’s mine.”

Even in the Carson City laundromat there are slot machines lined up on the wall to laugh at Taylor. “We’ve got to get out of this state,” she says bitterly.

“Every laundromat’s a gambling parlor,” Alice says,  making herself at home among the white-elephant appliances.

“You drop your quarters in and hope maybe this time the spin cycle will work.”

“We should have brought some extra change from you-know-who.” Taylor glances at Turtle, who is building a tower of bright orange detergent empties. Barbie claimed her clothes were clean, and elected to sleep in. She asked if they would do just a couple of things for her, which turned out to be bikini underwear and a pair of purple Spandex pants.

“How do you think she’s planning on spending her loot?”

Alice asks, holding a pair of Turtle’s jeans under her chin and pulling a pink sock out of each leg. She throws the socks in with the whites. “I notice she hasn’t offered to pick up the tab for anything yet.”

“Don’t you think that’d be a little suspicious, Mama?

Plunking down Long John Silver’s booty bag on the checkin desk and counting out thirty dollars in coin?”

A heavy young woman comes into the laundry with a jumbo box of clothes and three brown-skinned, orange-haired children. The oldest sticks out his arms and begins barnstorm-ing around the machines. He knocks over Turtle’s tower and careers away, making burning-engine noises. Turtle begins rebuilding without a word.

“Maybe we should stop at a bank and let her trade in her change for paper money,” Taylor suggests. “She’s going to get a hernia hauling around all that precious metal.”

Alice stares. “I’ll swan, Taylor. You talk like you’re still going to let her ride with us.”

Taylor fiddles with the unrolling hem of one of Turtle’s T-shirts. “I kind of respect her now. This robbery thing adds a whole new dimension to her personality.”

“Well, it’s your car. If you want to use it for transporting the criminal element.” Alice begins sorting a dark load. “Have you given any thought to where we’re going to end up? We can’t just drive and read dumb newspapers till the cows come home.”