ALANA PROMPTED when the cabbie pulled his atrocious ancient noisy sedan to the curb and just sat there, gazing out the windshield in apparent admiration of the cheap Halloween decorations that heralded Main Street. “What? Oh, yeah, sure thing.” Harvey popped the trunk, then made no move to get out and retrieve her luggage. He simply relaxed against the cracked vinyl upholstery, his impressive paunch testing the buttons of his plaid flannel shirt. “Easiest money I ever made. You gonna need a ride back to the airport later?” “God, I hope not,” she muttered, and dug in her purse for her wallet. “What’s that?” he asked, cupping a hand behind his ear. “Your muffler,” she said louder. “It needs replacing.” He just grinned and nodded. Guess she was getting her own bag. At least it wasn’t terrifically heavy. She sighed and passed him the fee she’d negotiated for him to drive her the hour and a half to Blackfoot Falls.
