40I tightened my grip on the steering wheel. Kept the Volvo rolling at ten miles per hour between the lines of parked cars.
Pat glanced casually toward the lot.
I pulled into an empty spot. Shut down the Volvo.
Gathered my bag and backpack. Headed for the entrance.
Passing the now-deserted smoking area, I collected the key envelope waiting for me.
Took the elevator to the top floor. Unlocked the door and pushed it open.
To my right was a luggage rack topped by a black carry-on roller bag.
Beneath, I spotted Pat’s boots and a small black hard case with an orange elephant logo on the side.
I recognized the brand. Ten inches long, eight-and-a-half inches wide, and four-and-a-half-inches deep, the lockable case was TSA-approved to transport pistols up to eight inches long.
Glancing to
