"Here," he said, taking a card from the pocket of his English tweed sport jacket and thrusting it toward them. "I dont have time to fuss with this. The damage is probably minor -- whatever it is I'll pay. Get it fixed and send the bill to me. The card was inscribed with thick, engraved lettering that read, "Henry Jewell, Heron House, Lake Anne Plaza, Reston, Virginia."
George and Francine looked at one another in disbelief as the man rushed back to his car, jumped in and roared off. Meanwhile, horns were blaring behind their eight-year-old, mid-size wagon with Virginia vanity plates announcing, "PAID OFF."
"We'd better get going before those people start shooting at us," shouted George as they got into the car with Chad and Berrie. They were looking forward to late lunch at a popular fast food eatery north of the Dulles Toll Road. When Francine turned left at Sunrise Valley Drive they were all thinking the same thing: "Who was this guy Henry Jewell and why was he in such a rush?"
To be continued....