I'd been on the Patrol for 3.5 years now, and it wasn't like I hadn't seen this before. In fact, I'd seen it often enough that I now looked forward to it. Very simply stated, there are some people that simply believe they are above the law. And there is a particular class of these people that interests me...young women. Specifically, young women who still lived out of Daddy's wallet...until they found some other rich sucker who could afford to take care of them in the manner to which they had become accustomed (which usually involved a hot red sports car). Daddy was always very rich, powerful, well-connected...i.e., not someone you'd want to mess with. But he'd earned that reputation the hard way...with (figuratively or literally) knives in the backs of his competitors. These Daddy's girls hadn't earned a thing. However, no one had bothered telling them that...so far.
It had been going on for better than a week. Who knew why? Who cared? It couldn't be a job...that was out of the question. It could be a boyfriend. It could be a daily trip to the gym. After all, this type of girl had one asset she really needed to worry about: her body. So, more than likely it was the gym. But it didn't matter. Once it passed about 3 days in a row, I took notice...and I followed just long enough to get a sense of how far down the road she was headed. So I put together a plan...taking into account all the predictable variables. There were always things you couldn't know for sure in advance. But one thing I was sure of was...the blinking lights and the Smokey Bear hat generally kept passersby from asking too many questions.
I decided it would be on a Tuesday. It was one of those "half-holidays". The ones where government types and bankers have to work, but a lot of others take the day off. That meant the traffic would be down somewhat...lessening the likelihood of complications. The digital clock on the dash read 8:32am, and I knew I'd be seeing her tear by within the next 10 minutes. Two minutes later, she blew past me going at least 75. I was half-hidden by a concrete embankment, but I slowly pulled out into the right lane and tailed her in a very low-key manner...never letting her out of my sight. When she passed the last exit before the target, I sped up and kicked on the lights...traffic moved right as I pulled into the middle and then the high-speed lane. I knew she'd intially think she'd outrun me...so I had to close fast, with only about a mile remaining before the all-important exit.
She was 15 lengths ahead of me...her long blonde hair blowing up behind her in the breeze. It was a very pleasant day, even for this hour of the morning. A great time of year. And yes...a great day. This was going to be a GREAT day. 10 lengths now...I just KNEW that she gave off a big sigh before even moving out of the passing lane.This little bird was one opportunistic driver...headed wherever she wanted at anytime, no lane signals, nothing. She owned the road...and she damn well knew it. When I moved into the middle lane behind her, she moved over into the right lane. I knew she was thinking: "What's he doing? Why didn't he pass me? Dammit..." And then, as I pulled into the right lane behind her...just at the precise intended moment, it sunk in. And it was too late. She was now at the entrance to the exit ramp...the traffic behind knew that I was pulling her over, and they had started to swell back into the lanes and pass us again. But because of the hilly area, there was no place to pull to the side on the ramp itself. She had to exit the freeway, and then I gave her a hand-signal to turn right and park. And park she did.
No one really even knew why this road existed. Of course, I did...but, to the general public, there was no justification whatsoever. If it saw 20 cars in a day, it would be a shock. But there were about 50 semis in a day that used it...and they all had one destination. Ransom Pharmaceuticals, owned by multi-billionaire Hank Ransom...the hard-scrapping Texan who had moved here years back and made the fortune of many lifetimes with his cancer-fighting wonder drug. It was expensive stuff...but when you're losing a loved one, you'll pay almost anything. It would be up for generic manufacture in three years, and everyone figured that, at that point, the plant would close completely. But, for now...there was still a steady, if small, stream of traffic that used this road each day. However, that was to the left...and I had told her to turn right. The street was basically a dead-end this way...there was a loop turnaround for those that turned the wrong direction...and a small utility building to the right for various communications links. Unmanned.
As she screeched to a stop, her door popped open and she jumped out of the car, marching back my way, glaring at me. I looked up just as she reached the trunk of her car and pointed her back into her car. She crossed her arms and stamped her foot. Who the hell did I think I was, anyway? Oh, yes...this was going to be interesting. Finally, she got back in her car...leaving her door open and her legs out on the road.
After keeping her waiting for about 5 minutes, I slowly opened my door, exited the vehicle and slipped on my Patrol hat. My mirror shades had been in place all along. I cut a pretty nice image in the uniform. 6′3″, 195, thick, muscular upper body. I could be fairly intimidating to just about anyone I'd ever encountered. But I knew this little filly would be different. As soon as she saw me walking her way, she jumped out of the car again. "What the hell is this all about? I've got places to be. You had no reason to stop me." I motioned her to sit back down. She said, "I will not!" Now, the fun began. I got to within 3 feet of her face and barked, "Sit DOWN...!!" I let my deep voice ring for a minute in her brain...and sure enough, once it registered fully, she backed away and sat down quickly.
"License and registration, please."
She reached behind her and picked them up off the seat...dangling her hand as if she could barely be troubled for such intrusive cooperation. As I suspected, the attitude was resurfacing.
"Miss, were you aware that you were travelling 78 mph in a 65 mph zone, that you were not signalling before changing lanes, and that the right brake light on your car is not functioning?"
"I was not. And you need to let me go now."
"Miss, don't force me to charge you in order to extract your cooperation. (she sighed and sat back again) It says here that this car is registered to a Caitlin Ransom. Is that you?"
"It's me. Doesn't the name mean anything to you?"
