They’d left the campground an hour prior. He looked back over his shoulder at Molly dancing on the galley’s white tile floor. She had her maroon-dyed hair pulled back in a ponytail and was wearing a tiny green T-shirt and a pair of little tan shorts—both articles of clothing had belonged to the dead woman riding below and were taken from the bedroom closet in the back of the RV. Some pop song on the radio was blaring through the rear speakers. “Can you turn that down?” Nick asked. “What’s the matter? Headache?” Molly asked. She went to the rear radio controls and lowered the volume. Molly walked to Nick, wrapped her arms around him from behind, and gave him a kiss on the top of his bald head. “You need to shave that,” she said and rubbed his head. “And this too.” She rubbed his cheek. “You’re prickly.” Nick grumbled. “Aw, is my baby hungover?” she asked. “Last night was fun, though.”
