Darius squinted against the glare of headlights bouncing off the rear-view.
The man tapped a heavy flashlight against the driver-side window. Darius rolled it down.
“Officer?” he said, trying to keep the fear from his voice.
“Hell boy,” said the man behind the flashlight. “I’m the sheriff. You blind?”
“My apologies, Sheriff.”
“This sure is a nice car, boy. Where’d you get a car like this?”
“I bought it in the city.”
“A city boy. Hell, this here is nicer than the mayor’s car. ’52?”
“It’s a 1953, sir.”
“Umm-hmm. Let’s just have you get out while I look it over, boy.”