Tarah seemed to catch her breath a little bit. I tried to look the least amount of intimidating that I could. It seemed to work. The driver’s side window slowly rolled down and I instantly was overcome with the scent of hot vomit.

I winced and pulled my head back a little bit before I spoke up.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

Tarah looked up at me with glassy eyes and I started to become the one who felt alarmed. Physically, everything about her seemed fine. She was probably just a little shook up, but her overall state of being seemed off. She seemed like she was so drunk she could barely exist as a person, flecks of vomit were stuck to her deep red lipstick and her eyes looked as if they almost couldn’t open.

“I think I’m okay, but I tried to drive my car and it wouldn’t move,” Tarah explained.

“I think I heard that walking up,” I answered. “I think I know what the issue is. Want me to take a look?”

“Yeah, that would be great,” Tarah answered back.

The window started rolling back up before I even turned away.

The rain seemed to stop over the course of our conversation and I was glad, it would make working on the wheel well of Tarah’s car a lot easier. Based on the noises I heard screeching out from the left, front wheel, she just had a small break issue caused by the bump and slamming of the breaks, which I could fix with the tools in my truck in about five minutes and it would provide me the perfect opportunity to attach a tracking device in the perfect location so I could have her go on her way and then figure out where she lived the next day.