“Mr. Smith?” I asked, stupidly. My companion’s body language clearly stated, “Who else, asshole? Get a grip.”“Have you got it?” I asked,...equally dense.“Have you?” he replied. At least, the voice was clearly that of an educated man, not an opportunistic vagrant. A slight, maybe even scrawny figure, this man of mystery wore an oversized hooded sweatshirt, hood pulled tight around his face. I would not be seeing Mr. Smith’s visage this night.But considering I had my coat collar high and a Giants. ”“Benny wouldn’t let me buy it.”“I always said that Benny was the smart one.”Tim threw his hands up in the air in a surrender gesture. “I give up. I’d really like to restore one of those. There’s got to be one or two of them around. A car like that doesn’t get crushed unless it is in really bad shape. That car is way too pretty to crush.”“There’s a 1935 Chevrolet Standard Phaeton outside of Truth or Consequences, New Mexico sitting up on blocks. The guy wants a grand for it.”“Is it worth a. More

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