K.T. stops dead in her tracks, her eyes locked on Horace’s car. “Holy crap,” she mutters, eyes wide. “Is that a ’69 Camaro SS?” I glance back at her as I unlock the door. “Yeah. You know cars?” She shakes her head, her lips trembling. “Just this one.” Her reaction is too strong to be normal. People don’t usually get choked up at the sight of a car. There’s something about this car specifically that freaks her out. It takes a second for her to smile, but she forces the expression onto her face. “It’s my sister’s favorite car.