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Virgil was driving when they brought the last van back.
So when the headlights splashed across the pavement and swung left, he had time to grin and touch the brakes. Glanced his foot off the pedal, really. Enough to extend a glimpse into a solid, four-beat illumination of Danny and Rusty against the side of the warehouse. And -- perfect! -- both of them were so occupied that they didn't even look up.
It was really, really hard not to laugh out loud. He'd been waiting for this chance since the last job.
And then... nothing happened. Nothing at all.
When he glanced over at the passenger seat, Turk was just sitting there calmly, feet propped on the dash.
Virgil felt his jaw trying to drop. Before he could stop himself he was saying, "Oh, come on. You saw that."
Turk looked around. "What?"
"You didn't...?" No. No way. His brother was doing a good job of looking confused, but the eyes were a little too wide and innocent. "Bullshit. You did."
"Saw what?"
"Danny and -- come on, you saw them!"
Turk was smirking now, and examining his fingernails like they were much more interesting than the conversation. "Well, maybe I did."
"So?"
"So..." Turk adopted a grave, thoughtful expression. "I think I get why Danny's divorced if he usually runs around sticking his tongue that far down another guy's throat."
They were still fifty feet from the warehouse door but Virgil had to stand on the brakes and twist around, staring. "Are you serious?"
"Sure."
"You don't have anything to say?"
"Nope."
Virgil wanted to scream in frustration. Four and a half years he'd kept this information to himself, waiting for the day when Turk would run headfirst into it. They'd made more money with Danny and Rusty than on all of their other jobs combined, so he knew they'd keep working with them anyway. But he'd been anticipating -- hell, relishing the thought of listening to Turk rant and rave, away from the others, with Virgil being sure to needle him relentlessly the entire time.
Turk grinned. Pretended to put his eyeballs back into his head. "Don't be so freaked out. Why would I care what they do?"
"You don't? You don't care about the Book?"
Turk shrugged, lounging back in his seat. "Hey, whatever. The Book says we shouldn't steal either. And I don't see us quitting the life to run an AutoZone. I'm no hypocrite, man."
Virgil could think of absolutely nothing to say to that.
"Aw, don't be so disappointed." Turk's voice was simultaneously gentle, reassuring and gleeful. "I knew about them for a lot longer than you did. It's okay."
The Book also counsels against telling untruths, but Virgil suspected that God wasn't saddled with the most annoying twin brother in the universe. He said instantly, "Oh, fuck you. I knew during the truck job in Memphis."
"Did not."
"Did too!"
"Did not! And I knew in Seattle."
"Oh, you totally did not! You invited Rusty to that strip club with us!"
Turk shrugged again. "So what? Rusty likes strippers. I guess you can like the cock, and strippers too. Strippers are a universal good."
"You're an animal."
"And what are you? The Utah state expert on gay political correctness?"
"Shut up."
"Somebody's mad 'cause I knew before him," Turk singsonged, tapping a quick riff against the dash with his hands. "Somebody's maaa-aaad..."
"How can I be mad? Unless you're mad, because I knew before you."
"Did not."
"Did too."
"Did not."
They were still arguing when Yen gave up and yanked the door open, muttering about stupid gwailos as he walked away.