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another couple of miles down the road before the cops hit their flashers, indicating that they wanted me to pull over.
    Not good.
    “How many?”
    The sleepiness was gone from Denise’s voice. That one word, cops , brought her out of her quasi slumber to full wakefulness in a matter of seconds.
    “Just one patrol car,” I told her.
    For now.
    Out of the corner of my eye I could see her sitting up straighter, though she didn’t look back at the cop car behind us.
    “Not a lot of choice, is there?”
    The red and blue flashers split the night, coating everything with their garish glow.
    I sighed. “Nope.”
    Looked like we were going to test just how good my new ID was sooner rather than later.
    We’d talked before leaving New Jersey about how to handle certain situations and this was one of them. We’d agreed that it would be best to comply with any official request until it looked like we were going to be taken into custody. If that happened, all bets were off and we’d use whatever means necessary to get us out of there as quickly as possible.
    My hands tightened on the wheel as the squad car followed me across two lanes and onto the shoulder. I’d been hoping they just wanted me to move out of the way and let them pass, but that clearly wasn’t the case. I put the car in park, rolled down my window, and turned off the engine.
    Footsteps sounded outside the window and a shadow loomed.
    “License and registration, please.”
    “Of course,” I said, nodding. I reached into the center console where I knew Denise kept the documents, pulled them out and passed them through the open window. From my position I couldn’t see the cop’s face, but I did get a look at his name tag. HENDRICKS , it read.
    As he was looking over the license and registration, I was struck by the sudden urge to say, “These are not the droids you are looking for,” in a deep commanding voice and had to clamp my jaw shut tight to avoid the nervous laugh that threatened to pop out as a result. Now was definitely not the time to be looking like a psycho , I told myself sternly.
    The beam of a flashlight suddenly pierced the shadowed interior of the car.
    “Mind taking off those sunglasses, sir?”
    I did. I minded a lot, in fact.
    I tried to talk my way out of it. “I’d rather not, Officer, if that’s okay. I have an unusual birth defect that renders my eyes susceptible to bright light. The sunglasses protect me from that.”
    He chuckled. “Oh, that’s a new one, I’ll give you that.” He put one hand on the open window and the other on the butt of his gun. His expression got all serious. “Take off the sunglasses, sir.”
    Oh, for heaven’s sake! I stomped on my irritation, knowing that getting mad wasn’t going to help the situation, and took off my sunglasses, bracing myself as I did so.
    Good thing, too, for no sooner had I done so than the flashlight beam was in my face as the cop tried to check my eyes to see if I’d been drinking. The bright light stole all vision from me and I instinctively put my hand up to shield them.
    “Holy shit!” Hendricks exclaimed, making no move to take the light out of my face. “You weren’t kidding, were you?”
    I wanted to slug the asshole, but managed to restrain myself.
    The light disappeared. “Where are you folks headed?” he asked.
    “Denver,” I replied, before Denise could say anything. No way was I going to give our actual destination. “Is there a problem, Officer? I didn’t think I was speeding…”
    I let my voice trail off, hoping he’d jump in, and he did so right on cue.
    “Did I say you were speeding?”
    He was back to being testy again.
    “No, sir,” I said, hoping to stay on his good side.
    Apparently I was too late for that.
    “Your left taillight is out. That’s a hundred-dollar fine in this state. I’m going to have to write you a…”
    He never got out the rest of his sentence. In the seat next to me, Denise started screaming.

 
    6
    HUNT
    Her