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quietly attempting to digest his chaotic thoughts.
    Maddy watched him patiently, trying unsuccessfully to gauge his level of anxiety.
    Glancing over, his eyes fell on the gun that remained in her hand.  His first thought was that he’d never been this close to a gun before, but then he remembered his tour of the chop-shop.
    It had been a hell of a memorable couple of days for him.
    Maddy followed his eyes and carefully placed the gun on the floor. “You should probably breathe now.”
    Grant shot her a wide-eyed look then returned his eyes to the road.  “How much trouble am I in right now?  Am I going to prison for assaulting a federal agent?”
    “Oh those weren’t FBI agents, Grra…Granted, I could see how you might think that.”
    She tried to put on the brakes-- True, it was a really feeble attempt at damage control --but she’d already said his name once and almost did it again.  The only thing left to do was throw up a smoke screen, misdirect him, and hope that she hadn’t completely botched this up by displaying the crazy card too soon.  She knew that it was coming but she had hoped to put it off as long as possible.
    He shot her another warning.  “Tell me how you know my name.”
    “You introduced yourself in the restaurant,” she replied quickly, then before he could analyze it too deeply, she barreled forward.  “But let’s get back to the gun.  It belongs to a police officer and has my prints all over it, so we should get rid of it as soon as possible.”
    Crazy card, she chastised herself again.  Back your happy ass up, now, and stop talking before he kicks you completely out of his car!
    Grant seemed to consider this, opened his mouth, then closed it again.  He raised a finger then shook his head and instead pulled the car into the nearest gas station on the feeder road, pulling the car up to the nearest pump.
    Too late, Maddy thought dejectedly.
    “Out please,” he said in an even tone.
    “I’m not a felon.”
    “Out now,” he repeated, somewhat louder.
    “Grant, you’ve already seen why I can’t involve local authorities.  They are ill-equipped to deal with these people.”
    “These people,” he murmured to himself.  Turning his head away from her, Grant simply stared out his window with a hard expression.  “We’ve all got our problems, apparently.”
    “You can’t leave me out here in the middle of nowhere.  These men are dangerous!”
    “You’re at a public gas station two blocks from Bush International Airport,” he exclaimed.  “I even gave you a hundred dollars!”
    “See!  That’s the thing.  I know you’re a good man, Grant, for just that reason,” Maddy continued.  “I could tell from the coffee shop.”
    Grant threw his door open and leapt outside.  Walking around the car, he stepped up to the pump and withdrew his wallet from his front pocket.  He pulled his lone credit card out and held it out toward the pump.  His hand quivered perceptibly as he attempted to slip the card into the appropriate slot.  He took a deep breath and managed to settle his nerves enough to insert it.
    When it accepted his card, he whistled appreciatively at the fact that it hadn’t been cancelled yet.  On second thought, why would they stop him from running up his debt?  This only justified the higher interest rates.  Bigger racket than the mafia those credit card companies, yet people recklessly signed up for as many as possible.
    As he began to fuel his car, the passenger door opened.  Maddy slowly rose to her feet.  “Thank you for the money, but I can’t take this,” she reached out and slapped the hundred dollar bill to the seat.  “Sounds like from your conversation with Mr. Personality yesterday, that you need it more than I do.”
    Grant glanced over at Maddy, who stood with her head lowered in front of the open passenger door.  She lifted her satchel from the floor.
    “Did you get the-the..?” he started, his eyes scanning the floor of the