He went back to the Jeep and slid behind the wheel. Michael was already waiting in the passenger seat.
“Hope you packed a flask, my friend,” Lance remarked, to which Michael only gave him a level stare and a small head shake.
Sometimes Lightfoot had absolutely no sense of humor.
Kara
I bounced the van along Boynton Pass Road, fingers gripped around the steering wheel. Luckily, the tourists were busy talking amongst themselves and didn’t seem to notice my preoccupation. That is, the group of four college students were being almost too boisterous, chattering and laughing. Maybe they were feeling uneasy and were overcompensating. Didn’t really matter. Their commotion made it easy for me to avoid engaging any of the other passengers in conversation.
The road was paved, but it had been yea
