You're not planning on reclaiming the Impala. Suspicious. His eyes narrow. The name Dick Roman is familiar, though he doesn't know where or when he heard it before. Leviathans don't have names, as far as he knows. They're too primitive for that. But you're planning to let him keep the car, as long as he knows it will draw the attention of the Leviathan.

That doesn't seem right to him. Like a thing you would do. But he can't say why.

"I work at Target." He tilts his head towards the door behind him. The red uniform shirt and khaki slacks hang on the back of it. "And I don't fear the Leviathans." They can come for him if they want. He needs a car to get to work. The worse that will happen is they kill him. He's never feared death, either.