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The darkened home looked empty. Pete tried the front door. Locked. Around back, he jimmied open a patio door with a credit card.
Immediately he saw a man holding a pillowcase full of something.
“Shit. You startled me,” the man said. “First time I ever seen two guys break into the same house. I came in the window. But hey, I believe in professional courtesy. I’ve got jewelry and laptops. Rest is yours.”
Pete opened a drawer and reached inside.
“Hold it,” Pete said, pointing a revolver.
“What about professional courtesy?”
“I forgot my keys,” Pete said. “I live here.”