Frodo stared at her a moment--and truthfully, she was a girl worth staring at, even with out the cat perched on her shoulder like a monkey, with thick black eyeliner and hair the color and quality of cast iron. He blinked a few times, processing her warning. He wasn't sure what to say. Though it was somewhat reassuring to hear a familiar accent. Something about her seemed almost trustworthy.
The driver spoke for him, reaching across Frodo's seat as they lowered the window the rest of the way. "We're looking for a little yellow sports car, circa the late-sixties. Have you seen it?"
"Yes," Frodo piped up, glad to be back on topic. "A Lotus Elan."