Evans gave Larry a receipt for his van, along with instructions for how to get to the impound yard. "You know, you got really lucky," he said.

"I know," said Larry. He was busy stuffing his recently returned articles back into his pants.

"If it had been anyone else, you boys would probably have been charged."

"I know," said Larry again

Evans gave Larry a pen to sign the voucher with. "I wouldn't do something like this again, I were you."

"I won't," said Larry.

"Okay, now, y'all be careful going back to California." Evans smiled.

"Will do. Thank you, sir." Larry bounded away, trying to get out of the station as quickly as possible.

Evans watched him go. "What a bunch of shitheads," he said to no one in particular.

They walked the early morning streets of Tempe, chattering animatedly, telling each other how scared and worried they were, and how they knew they would beat the rap the whole time. Only Larry was quiet as they strolled the three blocks between the police station and the impound yard.

Finally, D.J. noticed and slapped Larry on the back. "Why so glum, chum?" he said. "You should be on a Krispy Kreme high right now."

Larry scrunched up his face. "Ah, I'm glad we're out, but I was really hoping we'd get to keep the modules."

"How do you mean?" Turk said.

"Well, I rode with the cop, remember? And I asked him what would happen to all of our stuff in the van and he told me it would be entered as evidence."

"But they didn't charge us," said D.J.

Everyone looked at Burt. "What do you think?" Larry said.

"Well, usually, they pull everything out of the van and keep it. It may be weeks before we even get the cooler and the shovels back."

"Damn," said Larry.

"You said it," said D.J. His parent's cooler. They would hit the roof.

"We were so close," said Larry. "It was in our hands," he said.

Turk turned around, walking backwards so he could face them. "Yeah, but Larry, look at it this way. Your plan worked. The modules were there. It's just like at the end of Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. Sean Connery found illumination. He didn't need to own the grail. He just needed to know it was real."

Larry thought about it for a minute, and then slowly, he began to nod and smile. "You're right," he said to Turk. "You're absolutely right! We did it. And it's enough that we know that it was out there, and it was real, and we touched it." Larry hurried forward, a spring in his step. "Okay, let's go home. And Deej, you're going to help me drive, because I'm super tired."

Burt gave Turk a thumbs up. "Well done, sir."

"You da man," said D.J, slapping Turk on his shoulder.

Turk grinned and they hastened to catch up with Larry.

The bored black woman gave Larry the once over when he handed her his driver's license and the receipt, but she grabbed two sets of keys off the wall and said, "Y'all follow me. Don't touch nothing, either."

She strolled out through the four rows of cars, trucks, and other dilapidated vehicles. "There she is!" said Larry, pointing and running forward. The others followed at a slower rate, with the meter maid bringing up the rear.

"Hold on, now," she said, ambling up. "Got to take care of this," she said, bending down to unlock the padlock on the thick chains that passed over the front axle and into a ring set into the concrete. She pulled the chains out of the way and handed Larry his set of keys. "Y'all be careful out there, okay? I don't need this thing coming back here." She walked away.

"Okay," said Larry, unlocking the back van doors. No shotgun was called. Burt walked around to the front, so D.J. could get some sack time in case he needed to drive later. Larry was the last to get in. He ran his hands over the hood of his van. "Sorry baby," he said to her. "I'll never mistreat you again. You get us home and I'll give you the works." He climbed into the front seat.

Everyone was looking at him, stunned expressions on their faces. "What?" asked Larry.

Burt pointed.

The police hadn't processed the van. All of their belongings were still inside. And nestled in the back, right behind the driver's seat, were four dusty boxes of modules.