24The currency filled case sat on the backseat between Osman and Swan. Swan sat on the left, behind Afa who flipped the sun visor down to mimic his brother as they drove into a setting sun. The heft of the revolver in Swan’s purse prompted her to shift it from her lap to the seat near her hip.
“Why are you so fidgety?” Osman observed without looking in her direction.
The trip would be intolerable if he intended to play mind games until they arrived. She crossed her legs, turning away from him.
Traffic on the North-South Expressway was moving well; however, shortly beyond the location that Matu was to have met his death, Osman directed Afu to exit the highway and pull into a vacant lot of an abandoned construction site.
Swan felt for the outline of the revolver. “Why are we stopping?”
