"Mock not..." was all Cooper managed to get out before the taxi's lurch from stationary to hellbent for leather flattened him. For a moment he forgot what he had been saying and sat silent, head cocked to one side and eyes fixed on a point somewhere just beyond the dashboard and beneath the hood. "Nope," he said at last, "Just four in there. How did he do that?"<br/><br/>Presently he remembered his manners and smiled at Sarah. "Um, mock not the golf cart," he began again. "They're all over the streets in retirement towns in Florida, you know. Old people behind the wheel, pedal to the metal - or the fiberglass actually - and if you get in their way you're done for!"<br/><br/>A brief and sometimes terrifying trip through the narrow streets of the town brought them to the bookstore Sarah had requested. Cooper didn't bother to hide his relief at their survival as he stepped out and around to open her door for her.