14: The HitchhikerThe headlights from Smith’s Chevy stabbed into the night sky as he careered out of Las Vegas on Interstate 515 toward George in Boulder City. Smith’s hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white. Then he felt all the tension from the night’s events and his palaver with Hank dissipate as he noticed a figure’s silhouette in the headlights. The man had his thumb pointed at the road and a newspaper tucked underneath his other arm. Smith thought he would love some company to take his mind off all his misery and to stop this feeling like everything was spiraling downward.
Smith pulled his vehicle to the shoulder just past the man and leaned over to unroll the passenger window. “Where ya headed?”
The man stuck his head through the opening. “White Hills
