“What the hell’s his problem?”
“He’s an i***t?”
Devlin liked Isobel’s snappy comeback, but that wasn’t what he was referring to. The instant they were by him, he’d twisted around to stare at the car as if he’d impossibly spotted Isobel and was shocked to the core. Even now, his tiny figure in the rearview was standing stock-still and staring in their direction.
Christ it was weird. To be so famous that you needed to be moved around in the back of an armored car—inside a money bag. It sure hadn’t looked as if the guy just had a thing for 1957 Chevys.
“So what’s this ‘trick’?” He could hear the distrust in her voice.
“It’s called a rolling roadblock.”
Isobel didn’t react as Devlin negotiated them out of the tunnel through the heavy traffic, and got them turned around to head back into
