“I wish you’d take off that stupid hat.”

“This is cowboy country, pardner. I fit right in. You’re the one who looks weird.”

“Because I’m not wearing a cowboy hat, cowboy boots and a… whatever that thing is around your neck?”

“It’s called a bolo tie, yankee,” I said, straightening it.

“I don’t think they say ‘yankee’ in Texas.”

“Course they do. It’s the South, ain’t it?”

“And did you really think this pickup truck was the most sensible vehicle you could’ve chosen to spy on someone in? This guy’s gonna notice Bigfoot riding his bumper all over the city. With a celebrity behind the wheel, no less.”

“Gal, everyone in Texas drives a truck. We don’t wanna look stupid.”

“At least you didn’t get a convertible with bull horns on the front. You know, like a Boss Hogg car.”

“Triple white 1970 DeVille.”

Galen laughed and rolled his eyes…