As soon as Jesse gets into the car and gets out a cigarette, he gives up trying not to light one of his own. It was only a matter of time, after all. His lighter takes a couple of flicks to get lit, and he curses under his breath at it; they already have to deal with a dead guy, the last thing he needs his for his lighter to stop working. Cigarette finally lit, he focuses on driving, trying to strike a balance between going slowly enough so they don't look like they're in a suspicious hurry, and going quickly enough that they're less likely to get spotted.

"Okay," he says, finally taking a deep breath and glancing over at Jesse, making sure he's not stoically and quietly bleeding out in the passenger seat. "We'll get rid of that--" he gestures to the back of the car with a not particularly pleased expression on his face, "--and then we'll go our separate ways until we can figure out another deal for the heroin. If anyone asks us about the guys who go shot tonight, we don't know anything about it, yes?"

It's not like he thinks Jesse's going to talk about it -- he only picks partners he thinks are good at being discreet. On the other hand, he wants to make it clear that there's a decent chance someone'll come sniffing around as soon as they find the bodies. As Jesse had said, the warehouse is close by, and he pulls the car in behind it, as close to the entrance as he can. This late at night, it looks abandoned.

He takes another contemplative drag on his cigarette before parking the car and getting out, looking around quickly, hand on his gun, making sure there's nobody out there, and then gestures to Jesse that the coast is clear.