Concealed
“I know, man. It's strange and shouldn't be possible. But now you understand why I wouldn't talk. If she had something like that, who knows what other tech she possessed?”
“What was the name of the driver?”
Ricardo shook his head. “Nah, man. I told ya, you don't—”
“I will decide what is important. You agreed to all information, Telly. Name.”
Ricardo sighed and ran a hand through his already messed hair. He slid his hand over the back of his neck and pulled in the taunt muscles.
“Mitchell. Mitchell Carmichael. But he's a minor and only delivered the notes so he could get a couple extra bucks.”