Hindsight

 

“You are such a moron,” Jack snorted. “Didn’t you ever notice that the building was set way off the road, and in the woods at that?”

Jonah shrugged. “Well, yeah, but-”

“Where do you think the Muellers got all that money from? Selling ice cream?”

“I knew they had a tavern, but-”

“During Prohibition, idiot! They were connected to the mob!”

“You know that?”

“No, but I can connect the dots myself,” Jack retorted. “Don’t even bother asking Mom about it, either. She’ll just bore you to tears with stories about scooping ice cream cones for cute boys from school, and getting bowls of peanuts for her parents’ friends while they played cards in the backroom. It’s a complete waste of time.”

“Well, by the time Mom was scooping ice creams cones, Prohibition was over.”

“Yeah, but she had to realize what was going on before then. I heard from Jenny Schutz that Grandma and Grandpa used to hide the liquor in the basement when Mom was super little.  That was why the Muellers built them that house right next to the tavern. Who knows?  Maybe there was even a tunnel connecting them!”

“I doubt that.”

Jack let out an exasperated sigh. “You obviously don’t know how the criminal mind operates.  And the naiveté you cling to is exactly why you’re stuck in a dead-end job, my friend.  Because the realists are outmaneuvering you at every turn.”

“Programmers don’t try to outmaneuver each other. We just program.”

"Sure, bro," Jack said, obviously bored with the conversation now. "Whatever you need to tell yourself.”

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