Page 33 of A Dark and Stormy Night

"Thank you." The gentleman in the driver's seat looked relaxed.

A little too relaxed, to Walt's mind. Most people, no matter how innocent they might be, were nervous when crossing the border.

Mr. Ricci said, "Actually, it's my wife's car, but mine is an electrician's truck so she let me borrow it for the trip."

Walt frowned at the photo on the driver's license, then looked at the guy's face. "Would you take off your sunglasses, please?"

The guy whipped them off.

"This is you?" Walt asked.

"Mario Ricci. Yes."

"You don't look like you're this old."

"Facelift."

Walt didn't like him. Men didn't admit to stuff like that. At least not so readily. "Could I see your registration and insurance?"

"Let me see if I can figure out where she stashed it." Mr. Ricci dug around in the console and came up with the papers.

Yep. Car was registered to him and . . . "What's your wife's name?"

"Gwen. Is there a problem?"

Walt shook his head. "No. Everything looks like it's in order. Pop the trunk." He walked to the back and found a duffel bag.

Mr. Ricci appeared at his side. "Want me to open it?" Without waiting for an answer, he unzipped it and showed Walt the contents.

Walt poked around a little more, looking for . . . something. "Why are you visiting Canada?"

"Vacation."

"Without the wife?"

"She's got relatives visiting, so I'm getting out of town."

"I can relate to that." Walt handed back the paperwork, slammed the trunk, followed Mr. Ricci back and waited while he got back into the driver's seat. "How long will you be staying in Canada?"

"Once the relatives leave . . . " Mr. Ricci shrugged. "They said they were going to stay for two days."

Walt waved him through. "Enjoy your stay." He didn't like the feel of the guy, but he couldn't arrest a guy based on nothing more than his instincts.

He watched the car pull away, and accelerate.

All that Mr. Ricci left behind was the faint smell of smoke and the memory of his parting smile.

THE END

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