She knew better than to speed on the San Diego Freeway, but the weekend in Tijuana had left her spent and she wanted to get back to Los Angeles before sundown. So she turned up the radio in her shiny red BMW and floored it. It was a sunny afternoon on a Sunday, and the freeway was fairly empty, save for a few trucks and mini-vans. Everything was great until she saw the lights in her rear-view mirror.
The California Highway Patrol officer pulled his motorcycle up to the side of her car, as she slowed down. He peered down at the attractive blonde and pointed to the next exit. "Follow me," he said, adding "and don't try to lose me!"
She wasn't sure what to make of the strange officer, but as he pulled in front of her she somehow knew it would be a bad idea to ignore his command. She followed him off the freeway onto a quiet road bordered by a lake. He continued slowly, then turned right just past a grove of pine trees. The dust flew up as they continued on a dirt road for about a hundred feet, and then he came to a stop.
She stopped right behind his motorcycle, and waited silently as he made his way to her side. She noticed that he was not holding the customary ticket book, and he had a strange look on his face. Sweat began to drip down her face, as he leaned on her door and looked down at her. "What is your name?" he asked.
"Rebecca Porter," she replied. "Do you want my license?" she asked. He didn't answer right away, and then he straightened up and told her to get out of the car.
"What's going on?" asked Rebecca, but he quickly slapped her before she could finish her question. Her sunglasses flew off and the shock turned into excruciating fear as Rebecca realized that this man was probably sick, and her life was now in the balance.