The Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue (Guide #1)(71)

Topher didn’t say a word, forcing Barry to try another tactic.

“I get it, I get it,” he said. “You probably consider him a friend and don’t want to sell him out. As far as I’m concerned, Cash sold himself out when he started acting like a fool. He’s a smart guy—he knew exactly what would happen if he acted out. Now a lot of people are benefiting from the mess he’s made—that’s why they’re all eager to keep this story going. The longer Cash is out and about making a total jackass of himself, the more hits, clicks, and views all the news sites get. So why don’t we take our piece of the pie, too?”

“I don’t like pie,” Topher said. “I couldn’t tell you where Cash went if I wanted to because he didn’t tell us where he was going. Now piss off or I’ll call the cops—there’s no more special interest here.”

The paparazzo seemed to have met his match. He was both disappointed and impressed with Topher. Barry pulled out his wallet and handed him a business card.

“That’s my info in case you hear from him and change your mind,” Barry said. “Think about it, kid. Seven grand would go a long way for a college student. Enjoy the rest of your trip.”

The paparazzo unhooked his car from the pump and drove off. Topher was so shaken by their encounter he didn’t get back into his car until the man was out of sight. He ripped Barry Reid’s card in half, threw it in the trash, and then headed back to Dinoworld to pick up his friends.

Topher had woken up that morning expecting to see some pretty scary carnivores by the time the day was finished, but he wasn’t expecting the scariest one would drive a Prius.





Chapter Nineteen

IMPACT

Cash had spent all of Thursday in a terrible mood, but on Friday morning the actor awoke as a different person altogether.

“Hey, Cash?” Topher said as he knocked on the door of the actor’s hotel room.

“What do you want?” Cash yelled from inside.

His tone took Topher off guard. Cash wasn’t raising his voice simply so his friend could hear him through the door, but shouting so his irritability was perfectly clear.

“I’m sorry,” Topher said. “Is something wrong?”

“Just tell me what you want,” the actor demanded.

“It’s eight o’clock,” he said. “We were supposed to meet in the lobby at seven forty-five, remember? We’ve got a lot of ground to cover today and want to get on the road as soon as possible.”

“I’ll be out in a minute,” Cash yelled. “And please don’t hover outside my door like you did yesterday—it won’t make me move any faster.”

“Oh… okay,” he said. “We’ll meet you in the car, then.”

An hour later, the actor finally emerged from the Albuquerque Vacation Suites and joined the others at the station wagon. They could all tell something was wrong from his physicality alone. Cash walked very slowly, as if every muscle and every bone in his body ached. He was breathing heavily like a bulldog after a long walk. A dissatisfied expression was frozen on his face as he moved, as if absolutely everything in the world bothered him.

“I can’t ride bitch today,” Cash said when he got to the car. “Someone needs to switch places with me.”

“I’ll do it,” Joey said, and climbed into the back of the station wagon with the luggage.

“Cash, no offense, but you look like shit,” Mo said.

“Maybe that’s because I feel like shit, genius,” he said. “I’m out of sinus medication and I woke up with a fucking migraine.”

“Do you need us to stop and get you something?” Sam asked from the driver’s seat.

“All I need is silence,” Cash snipped. “Can we all be quiet in the car today? Is that allowed?”

“Um… sure,” Topher said. “We can do that.”

“Good,” the actor said.

The others stared at Cash in disbelief. It was like a demon living inside of him had taken the reins.

“What are we waiting for?” he griped. “Let’s get this fucking show on the road.”

They drove for three hours in total silence per the actor’s request. Cash ferociously chain-smoked the entire way and popped gummy bears into his mouth every fifty miles or so. He kept his eyes shut most of the ride, too, and only opened them when he was lighting a cigarette or searching for gummies in his backpack.

At noon, the station wagon arrived at the Petrified Forest National Park. They exited Interstate 40 and drove down a long curvy road through the scarlet badlands of the Painted Desert and the indigo-striped hillsides of the Blue Mesa, and followed the signs leading to the Jasper Forest to see the petrified wood. The national park was so unique Topher, Joey, Sam, and Mo thought their car had taken a turn and wound up on another planet altogether. About twenty miles into the park, the car pulled into a viewpoint overlooking the Jasper Forest. It was a small canyon sprinkled with tree logs that had fossilized into multicolored stone over the course of several millennia. The Downers Grove gang got out to take pictures of the rare phenomenon while Cash stayed in the car so the park ranger wouldn’t catch him smoking. Sam read the information on a stand set in the center of the viewpoint.

“The Jasper Forest is home to many pieces of petrified wood,” he read. “The petrification process most commonly occurs after wood is burned by volcanic ash and constrains the wood from decomposition due to lack of oxygen. Flowing water then deposits minerals in the plant’s cells, forming a stony mold in its place. These are the fossilized remains of terrestrial vegetation stretching back to the Triassic period, approximately two hundred and thirty million years ago.”