"Oh puh-leeze," Shar says rolling her eyes. "You're not a stupid man, Frank. I can tell that from talking with you for thirty seconds. I have no idea where you're going, or where you think you are going with her, but before you go, I'd ask her about the gun she's holstering under her jacket, why she looks more like a movie limo driver than an actual one, who wouldn't be working in clothes that binding, and maybe while you're at it, you should get a look at her class 2 license. See if she's actually even a limo driver," Shar says.
"I don't make you any promises, Frank. I'm just a private investigator with an old motorbike, the people who are like family to me are in trouble, and I am suffereing a severe lack of sleep in the last 36 hours. You won't get rich coming with me. I can't even afford to play dress up like she can," Sharon says with a nod at the driver. "I can't buy a limo, but I do have," she says, digging into her jean pockets, "enough for a couple of cups of coffee on the way to Westchester," she adds with a smile. "And I willing to share the coffee, even though I really want to hog it all."
She sighs. "You can ask me whatever you want, Frank, and I'll answer your questions as best I can. I can't expect you to choose that," she says, jerking a thumb at her bike, "over this limo without any questions. But I'd ask a few questions of your driver if I were you."