“She’s not answering,” Frankie said. Tabitha was behind the wheel, her hands were set firmly at ten and two o’clock. Sam and Drake were crammed into the back bucket seat of Tabitha’s small, practical hatchback. Sam was moaning. “How’s this possible?” Sam said, now sounding as Frankie had earlier in the night when he first approached their table at Jameson’s Tavern. “Howssh thish possible?”
By the way, for those of you keeping up with the chapters, I already have next week's edited and ready to go. Part II begins!
Great suspense! I only have one suggestion this week:
Sam’s head slumped over against the window again and closed his eyes.
... and he closed his eyes.
Another good chapter!
This feels awkward. this woman. She’s something.”
Should it be woman, she’s something?