It was old. Old and rickety with tires that didn’t match and paint that was peeling. At one point, it might have been black, but the sun had bleached it a dull gray. On the side of the sliding doors was a sloppily painted mural of a man riding a horse into the moon. Though it might have been a unicorn. It was hard to tell. As the old junker idled, Nicky grinned over the center console and manually rolled down the window.
“Hey, sailor!” he called. “Looking for a good time?”
Wes did a double take toward the grocery store. “Weren’t you just on shift?”
“I’m taking an early lunch,” he said. “And a long one. You want a lift back?”
“Won’t you get in trouble?”
“Eh. Marv can yell at me about it later.” He opened the door and swung it open. “Come on. We’ll drop off the goods at your place and t
