The trunk was cold and uncomfortable. The ride was worse. Nauseating was the word that came to mind. John had hidden inside the Cadillac as soon as he heard Sherry say she was heading out to the Champagne Springs motel. It was in the middle of nowhere. Any other car would be instantly suspicious. Sherry might be light in the brains department but John was pretty sure she’d recognize her husband’s troubleshooter.

John felt the car come to a stop. A rapid sequence of sounds followed. The engine cutting off. A door creaking open and slamming shut. The rhythmic tapping of high heels on blacktop that faded away.

Sliding his fingers along the edges of the trunk John found the release and popped the trunk from the inside. Fresh air rushed in as he pulled himself out. He held on to the car frame, just breathing, until the world righted itself and stayed that way.

He hoped that this wasn’t what it looked like. He was tired of cleaning up Sherry’s messes. Maybe this time he could do some preventative maintenance.