“What’s it for then?” Oliver asked, sounding a little worried.
Marv slowly turned to look at Oliver and, with a hushed voice, said, “It’s probably better if you don’t ask those questions.”
I felt every hair on my body stand straight up.
Oliver looked over at him. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
The guy didn’t reply or even look at Oliver. He just kept driving like he wasn’t spoken to at all.
Oliver glanced back at me and then turned to stare at our driver. “What the fuck is in the tackle box, Marv? There isn’t anything illegal in here, is there?”
He moved his head from side to side. “I guess it depends on what state you’re in.”
“This state! This is the state we’re in. What the fuck do I care if what you have is illegal in New York? We’re not in New York!” Oliver’s voice was booming through the cab of the car.
“This state?” Marv asked. “Yeah, it’s illegal in this state.” He laughed. “Illegal in most states. All states, actually,” he said, changing his mind on his answer.
“What the fuck?” Oliver muttered, holding his head in his hands. “Pull the fuck over and let us out of here.”
Marv kept driving. “Nope, sorry, can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“I need to get as far away from that cop as possible,” he said, still driving.
I felt like I was watching a tennis match, the way my head kept going back and forth. My imagination may have run away with me as I tried to guess what was in the tacklebox. Were there weapons in there that he had just used to kill someone? A smoking gun or a bloody knife? Or what if it wasn’t a weapon at all?
It could’ve been body parts. He seemed like the kind of guy who would work for a crime boss. Maybe Marv was sent as a warning. It could’ve been a severed finger in the box. Or a whole hand. He could’ve been killing people and stealing their organs to sell on the black market. Obviously, it wasn’t anything big like a lung, but a kidney could easily fit in a tacklebox. A liver, too.
I bent forward and whispered in Oliver’s ear. “Do you think he’s a murderer? What if there’s a weapon in the tackle box?”
His eyes narrowed as he glared at Marv.
“Look, Marv. If you get pulled over, we’re just as guilty as you are. I think it’s only fair we know what we could be getting charged with, don’t you?”
Marv worried his bottom lip, seemingly thinking it over.
“I mean, how would you feel if you got into a stranger’s car and then got arrested for whatever that stranger was involved in? You’d feel a little betrayed, wouldn’t you?” I asked him.
He glanced into the rearview mirror, his eyes meeting mine.
“And Carl is too pretty to make it in prison,” I said, putting my hand on Oliver’s shoulder.
Marv looked at Oliver. “Your name’s Carl?”
Oliver pressed his lips into a tight line.
“I guess it is.” He nodded once.
“I had an older brother named Carl,” he confessed.
“Had?” I confirmed.
Marv’s eyes locked with mine in the mirror as a chill rushed up my spine. “He’s dead.”
He is a murderer. I knew it!
Chapter 18
