Something flashes in his gaze, visible in the lights reflecting from the streets even without him turning his head. All he does is grubt in acknowledgment though he hates people pointing that out usually. Coming from her, it's different, like she's recognizing a kindred spirit. That's what they are now, isn't it?

"Believe it or not, lady, I knew that." It gets a smile, lopsided and sharp though it is. He drops it as quickly as it flit across his face anyway. What seems like mere seconds later, the van screeches to a halt outside a chained up storage unit and Frank reaches back into that sketchy bag to retrieve a pair of bolt cutters, hopping out without another word, hood up not like it matters. He leaves the engine running and the door wide open.