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54
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The Lamborghini took off through the traffic filled street. They could see the Mercedes a few cars ahead. "Couldn't you have picked something a little less conspicuous?" Mort asked.
"Don't be so picky. Some people would give their teeth for a ride in this," The girl defended.
Mort surveyed the car's luxurious interior, opened the glove compartment, removed the contents and inspected them: a pair of sunglasses and a turban.
The Mercedes was cruising along several hundred yards ahead of the Lamborghini.
"Listen, we can't sit on her tail forever. She's bound to smell a rat," Mort told her.
The girl gave him a look then she pulled open the glove compartment and put the turban and sunglasses on. Mort looked at her strangely. She extended her arm and pushed him down below the door level of the car.
Amy, behind the wheel of the Mercedes, turned her head to look at the car that was passing. She saw a figure in shades and a turban behind the wheel. A bit strange, nevertheless, but not extremely strange, really.
As they fully passed, Mort slowly raised up. After glancing over his shoulder, he settled back in his seat and lit a cigarette. He eyed the girl.
"How do I look?" She asked, still porting the costume.
"Ridiculous," He said, looking away from her. She smiled and put the items back in the glove compartment.
The Lamborghini passed an exit. The girl drove with one eye on the Mercedes, which was picking up speed, in the rearview mirror.
The Mercedes turned off at the exit.
"Sit tight!" The girl ordered Mort. She brought the car to a quick halt and shifted to reverse. Then she backed the car up quickly until the beginning of the exit.
A couple of cars flashed their headlights and blared their horns as the Lamborghini reached the exit and skidded to a stop, narrowly missing a large truck that had beaten it to the exit. The Lamborghini crawled along behind the truck as it drove up the single-lane exit road.
Mort became impatient. He reached his hand over and tapped on the horn a few times, emitting a high pitched honking noise. The truck's only response was to slow further before pulling up at the T junction.
An arm suddenly emerged from the truck's driver window and showed Mort and the girl a friendly finger. Guess which one?
The arm then disappeared and the truck moved off at last, turning left across the bridge spanning the freeway. The Mercedes was nowhere in sight.
The Lamborghini moved up to the T junction and stood there, engine purring. They had no idea which way Amy could've gone.
"Take your pick," The girl said.
"No, you. You know everything," Mort insisted.
"If you say so," She replied and turned the car to the right.