Tail Lights
Tension mounted as Doyle and Laura sat in their car.
Luck loved tricks.
The mist rolled in just as their target drove off, hiding the fact that they were following him. They were just behind their target’s car and judging by the route the target took, the journey would be quite a while. Doyle could feel the tension reaching a fever pitch in him and Laura was eerily silent, her eyes staring intently at the red tail lights floating in front of them.
“Laura, why don’t we just stop for a while?”
“Shut up and drive,” she snapped. “follow him as closely as possible. We can’t lose him!”
“If we don’t stop, Laura, something bad is going to happen,” he warned. “I mean it. Why don’t we just explain to him?”
“Doyle Kennard Royston.”
He shrank under Laura’s frosty tones and withering look.
“Something bad is really going to happen,” he hated his own whimpering voice.
She kept silent. And he kept following their target.
A long sound of flatulence echoed in their car.
“Doyle Kennard Royston!”
“I told you!”
“By the gods, it stinks! Pull over and let me out! And tell Carson to pull over and wait for us! Good lord it stinks!”
