I breathed a sigh of relief. "You didn't?"
He returned his attention to the road. "Not exactly."
Not exactly?What on Earth didthatmean? "So whose car is it?" I said. "Do you even know?"
"Yeah. I know."
"Well?" I demanded.
"Well what?"
"Whose car is it?"
"My brother's."
"Oh." Actually, that made a weird kind of sense. "So you borrowed it?"
He was silent for a long moment before saying, "I dunno."
"How can you not know? You either borrowed it, or you didn't."
As an answer, he only shrugged.
I made a sound of frustration. "But youareplanning to return it, right?"
He gave it some thought. "Maybe."
"Maybe?" I glanced around. "Is there anything else I should know?" I gave a nervous laugh. "I mean, you don't have a bunch of guns in the trunk or anything, do you?"
At this, he hesitated.
Oh, no.I felt myself swallow. "Do you?"
He gave me a sideways glance, but said nothing.
I groaned. "Oh, my God. You do, don't you?"
After a painfully long moment, he said, "I wouldn't call it a bunch."
I sank back in my seat.Just shoot me now.No. Wait. Not literally. He did, after all, have guns readily available. I turned back to him and said, "How manywouldyou call it?"
He gave it some thought. "A few."
"A few?" I croaked. "As in more than one? How many is a few?"
"Hard to say. I didn't count."
Hoping for the best, I said, "But they're not yours? I mean, they probably belong to the car's owner." I paused. "They do, right?"
I held my breath and waited for his response.Please say yes. Please say yes. Please say yes.
He gave me another sideways glance. "No."
I cringed.Damn it.
He said, "They belong to myotherbrother."
I was staring again. "How many brothers do you have?"
