“Yes.”
They stopped by his car in the lot behind the hotel first so that Michael could put her bag in the trunk. It was a dark four-door sedan, big enough for him to drive. Then they walked on to her rental car.
“It’s the red one, just down by the corner.”
The closer he got, the more Michael wanted to laugh. The car was the size of a go-kart. With his long legs there was no way he could get behind the wheel. His concern for the dimensions of the car, however, was quickly erased when he saw the scratches. They etched the driver’s door and spread in a winglike pattern across the passenger door in back. He had a feeling there were matching scratches on the other side. Curious, he walked around the car to find out if he was right. He was. There was a small dent in the fender as well.
Isabel stood on the sidewalk, hands folded, anxiously waiting for him to comment. She didn’t want to fight, but she would if he said anything sarcastic.
“Did you leave anything in the car?” he asked.
“No.”
“Doors locked?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, let’s leave it here, and we’ll drive my car to the body shop and drop off the key.”
“I could drive it over there.”
God, no. “Let’s leave it here,” he said instead.
Something else wasn’t quite right about the car, but it took him a minute to figure out what it was. In his defense, the deep scratches and dent had held his attention and had distracted him.
“Where are the side mirrors?”
She answered without hesitation. “In the backseat.”
Since Michael didn’t seem to have anything to say about that, Isabel felt she needed to explain. “The roads are extremely narrow up here.”
As they walked back to his car, he draped his arm around her shoulders. “Good to know,” he said.