CHAPTER NINETEEN
Twenty minutes later, Max turned into the parking lot of a strip mall.
“What are you doing?” Leslie sat low in the passenger’s seat, peeking from under the bangs of her thick, black wig.
Max crept through rows of cars.
“What are you doing?” Leslie hit his arm.
“I’m looking for a car to steal.”
“What?” She jerked, wig hairs getting in her mouth. “Are you out of your mind?”
“We’re on the run in case you’ve forgotten.” His shades slipped on his nose. “You expect us to keep driving this car?”
“But they don’t know what car we’re driving.”
“Not yet, but they will.” He made a left between more cars.
“You can’t steal a car. I forbid it.”
He smirked. “Is that so?”
“First you lock up that poor lady at the wig shop and now you’re stealing cars?”
“You got a better idea?”
