Chapter 21

“Fine. I might have taken a soup ladle when I moved out of Mom’s house.”

Zen slowed down, checked the rear-view mirror, and then ahead before looking at Fred. “You stole a soup ladle from your mother?” Disbelief colored his every word.

“She had more than one! And this one belonged to my grandmother. She used to make me tomato soup with pasta in it when I was a kid. I loved that soup.”

“Aww, that’s cute.”

Fred slapped his arm. “Focus on the road.”

“Yes, Officer Munson.”

“What was the last thing you stole?”

“Tools. Always tools.”

“From whom?”

Zen shrugged. He couldn’t remember the last thing he’d taken, but if someone left good tools lying around, they had no one to blame but themselves.

“Do you steal from your friends?”

Zen spluttered. “Of course not! I might give them stolen goods, but I’d never take from them.”

Fred shook his head. “I fear you’re a little crazy.”