Chapter 3

“Mornin’,” he says, pitching his IEU duffle bag into the back seat next to mine. “You ready for this?”

“Sure thing.” I shrug, like maybe that didn’t even sound like an irresistible sexual invitation to me.

“I actually don’t mind this drive,” I say once he’s settled in his seat and buckled up. “It’s fun to see Vegas, and Utah’s kinda pretty.”

“For like the first eight hours,” he says.

I chuckle. “I guess it does start to feel kind of wide about halfway across.”

He looks around the inside of my little yellow Datsun 510. “You like the drive, and I’m glad for the ride. And this little guy’s up for it?” He opens the glove box, as if to check for who-knows-what.

I pat the black plastic dashboard reassuringly. “He’s only ten years old. This little car’s still got some tricks up its sleeve. I bussed a lotof tables saving up for this bad boy. He’s never let me down.”

“Can you still get parts for this car?”