Crimson Highway

by David Wickenhauser

  Hugh could tell that those last words shut Jenny off completely. He realized he probably wasn’t going to get through to her any more, so he just concentrated on his driving through this northeastern Nevada wasteland.

  A couple hours later, they were about an hour from Burley. Just ahead was the town of Twin Falls, Idaho, where Hugh would take a sharp right turn from heading north to heading east in order to connect with 50 and then 84 to Burley.

  During one of his periodic sweeps of the rear view mirrors, he noticed a state trooper car bearing down on him from behind with its red lights flashing. As he always did when emergency vehicles were nearby, he slowed down and moved over slightly in order to let the patrol car pass.

  But, the patrol car didn’t pass. It pulled in close behind Hugh, the officer motioning with his left arm outside his window for Hugh to pull over.

  Hugh drove on for a little while farther until he found a place where the shoulder was wider, and pulled in. He set his brake and shut off the engine.

  “I wonder what’s going on?” Hugh said, as he rolled down his window.

  Hugh noticed that the Idaho State Patrol officer had stepped out of the patrol car, and had donned his Smokey the Bear hat. He was talking into his mic, probably calling in the traffic stop.

  But the officer didn’t approach the truck. Instead, he stayed with his patrol car, his body partially obscured by the open driver’s side door.

  Then the officer switched his mic to loudspeaker, and ordered Hugh out of truck. “Driver! Exit the vehicle! Keep your hands visible at all times!” the officer demanded.

  Hugh did as he was told. He stepped down from the cab, careful to keep his hands raised and within sight of the officer. As he left the cab, he glanced back at Jenny with a questioning look. Jenny merely shrugged.

  The cop then adjusted his baton and weapon on his belt as he approached Hugh. He stood about 5’ 10”, looked to be about forty-five years old, and had the sag and paunch of officers his age who were nearing retirement.

  Just as Hugh was about to ask, “What’s the problem, officer?” the trooper pulled out his baton with his left hand, pointed it at the ground, and ordered Hugh to stop right there.

  “What?” Hugh asked, thinking he hadn’t heard right.

  “Stop there. Keep your hands raised, and where I can see them,” the officer ordered, his right hand resting on his gun butt.

  To Hugh’s thinking, the officer was being unnecessarily belligerent, but he quickly did as the officer requested.

  The officer then roughly shoved Hugh against the truck’s fender, told him to place both hands on the hood, and kicked Hugh’s legs out wider—the classic perp-spread position for a law enforcement officer to subdue and frisk criminal suspects.

  What on earth is going on here? Hugh wondered. But, he kept the thought to himself. Silence is golden right now, and the better part of discretion, until he finds out exactly why he is being treated this way. Obviously, a case of mistaken identity.

  The officer roughly frisked Hugh, then turned him around to face him. He stood there glaring at Hugh, the baton held out in front of him pointed at Hugh’s chest, keeping him at bay.

  “ID!” he demanded.

  Hugh reached into his left, front pants pocket where he kept his driver’s license, and handed it to the officer.

  The trooper was named Donovan, Hugh noticed from his name tag now that he was facing him. Donovan radioed in Hugh’s license information on the portable unit that he had clipped to his shoulder. Then, he handed the license back to Hugh.

  “OK, Mister Mann, I’m taking you in until we can clear this up. Turn around, and put your hands behind your back,” he told Hugh.

  Before Hugh could think about this new order, the officer spun Hugh around, and snapped a pair of handcuffs on him. He then shoved him toward his patrol car, placed his hand on top of Hugh’s head, and pushed him roughly backward into the rear seat.

  Hugh knew enough about police vehicles that when the officer slammed the door shut he would be locked in. There were no door handles in the back seats of cop cars.

  Just then, another patrol car arrived, and Hugh watched as Officer Donovan pointed at Hugh’s truck while explaining something to the newcomer.

  Hugh wondered what was going to happen to Jenny. He hoped she was going to be OK. However, there was nothing he could do at this point until the mistake was cleared up.

  Their discussion over, the other officer walked toward Hugh’s truck, while Donovan got into the driver’s seat of his own patrol car.

  As Officer Donovan pulled onto the highway, Hugh ventured a question. “Am I under arrest? Where are you taking me?”

  “You’re not under arrest … yet. I’m taking you to the Sheriff’s Office in Twin Falls for questioning,” the officer answered. “From there, it depends on how things play out.”

  “Officer Donovan, you know this is a big mistake, don’t you?” Hugh said, hoping to reason with the officer, and get back to his truck and to Jenny.

  “Just shut up,” the officer said.

  The patrol car’s radio crackled to life. Hugh heard, “Three fifty-seven, two ninety-eight.”

  Officer Donovan picked up his mic. “Three fifty-seven,” he said.

  The radio came back with, “It’s clean, Donny. Didn’t find anything.”

  Then Hugh heard the most incredible thing come over the radio.

  “The perp’s wife said she is his team driver, and that she will drive the truck to their delivery in Burley. She said he can connect with her later by cell phone when this is all cleared up.”

  “Ten-four, three fifty-seven out.” Hugh’s officer said, and hung up his mic.

  “I’m done here. Two ninety-eight out.” the other officer said.

  Hugh sat there, stunned, hardly able to believe what he had just heard.

  “Officer, there’s been a huge mistake. I don’t have a wife, especially her. That ought to be easy enough to check.”

  “Yeah, right, that’s what they all say,” the officer replied.

  “You’ve got to listen to me,” Hugh pleaded. “There is definitely something fishy going on here. That girl is just a hitchhiker who I was giving a ride to Burley. She has no idea how to drive a truck. Didn’t anybody think to check her license?”

  The officer didn’t say anything. Though Hugh could see he was thinking about it.

  He picked up his mic. “Two ninety-eight, three fifty-seven,” he said.

  “Two ninety-eight,” Hugh heard from the speaker.

  “Say, Johnny, did you get an ID on the lady in the perp’s truck?”

  “No. Sorry. I thought you did. She said she was the guy’s wife is all I know.”

  “Thanks. Three fifty-seven out.”

  The officer pulled the patrol car over to the side of the road, parked, and turned in his seat to face Hugh through the heavy-gauge, wire-mesh screen that divided the front seat from the back. “What else can you tell me about this?”

  “Me tell you? I was hoping you’d tell me why you pulled me over and shoved me into this car in the first place.”

  “OK. There’s something not right here, so I guess I owe you that,” he said. “I got a call from dispatch that someone reported a road rage incident with a truck exactly matching your truck’s description. The caller reported the truck driver tried several times to run him off the road.”

  “Go on,” Hugh said.

  “The caller also said the truck driver pointed a gun at him, making threatening gestures as if to shoot him.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding!” Hugh exclaimed.

  “No, sir. We take those kinds of threats very seriously.”

  “That wasn’t me, officer. There must be some kind of mistaken identity, or a crank call, or something. I never carry a gun in my truck.”

  “That’s what Johnny said. Your truck came up clean in the search.”

  “Look, since things aren’t adding up here, can you give me the benefit of the doubt, and
go back to my truck to check out what I’ve told you?” Hugh asked.

  The officer turned back straight in his seat, pulled the car onto the highway, made a U-turn, and headed back the way they had come.

  Hugh’s truck was still there. As they got closer they could see another vehicle there as well. Hugh had a bad feeling in his gut when he saw it was a blue Buick.

  Officer Donovan pulled up next to the truck, and it was then that they saw Jenny surrounded by four large men, all talking animatedly.

  “Officer, be careful out there. I think it’s possible that those guys are hijackers.” Hugh warned.

  Donovan unsnapped the strap on his pistol, and loosened the baton in its holster, as he approached the group.

  Hugh couldn’t hear very well from where he sat in the officer’s car, but the four men’s body language told him that officer Donovan was not going to get a friendly reception.

  Just as he was thinking this, two of the men circled behind the officer and grabbed his arms. One of the other two snatched the officer’s pistol from its holster, and the other grabbed his baton. The man with the baton whacked Donovan over the head, causing him to go limp. But he was still being held upright by the two other attackers.

  Hugh went berserk when he saw this. He pressed his back against the back seat, drew his legs back, and with an explosive force that he didn’t know he was capable of, kicked the wire-mesh screen out of its attachments and sent it crashing into the front seat.

  Losing no time, he scrambled over the back of the front seat as best he could with his hands handcuffed behind him. He then charged out through the open driver’s side door. In a rage, he flew into the group, bent on freeing the officer first.

  He launched himself into the air, and landed with bone-breaking force with both feet on the right knee of the guy holding the officer’s right arm. The hijacker crumpled to the ground.

  Then, almost at the same instance, he pivoted and, with all his pent up fury behind it, arched his back violently upward like an uncoiling spring, and smashed the back of his head into the face of the man holding the officer’s left arm. The man fell to the ground.

  The violent action caused Hugh to lose his balance, and he fell with all his weight onto the man. As he fell, he accidently jammed his knee into the man’s throat, crushing his airway.

  The man gasped, choked, writhed under Hugh’s weight, and drew his last breath lying there, his crushed airway choking him to death.

  Released, the patrol officer staggered back, then collapsed to the ground … just barely still conscious.

  Hugh rose awkwardly to his feet, and turned to deal with the other two hijackers. What he saw turned every ounce of blood in his veins to ice. They had Jenny by her arms, one on each side of her. The one with the officer’s gun was holding it to Jenny’s head.

  Jenny stood there, frozen with panic, pleading with her eyes.

  Hugh lost all reason. Almost insane with rage, with no concern at all for his own well-being, and regardless of his being handcuffed, he covered the distance between them in two strides. Just as he was about to take a kick at the two guys holding Jenny, or die trying, he heard a gun shot.

  “Oh, God. Jenny! Nooooo!” he cried.

  With two powerful, swift, round-house kicks to their heads, he put down the two guys, and immediately turned to see how badly Jenny had been wounded. He didn’t see her at first, and then he found her bending over Officer Donovan, now lying on his back on the ground. She appeared to be OK.

  “The gunshot … who?” Hugh asked, looking at Jenny. She pointed to the officer’s right hand, which held a small .25-caliber handgun. His backup gun.

  Officer Donovan wanted to speak. Jenny helped him raise his head slightly. “My backup gun. Ankle holster. Couldn’t let you have all the fun.”

  Hugh had been so busy charging into the guys who were holding Jenny that he hadn’t noticed when one of them, the one holding the gun on Jenny, had been shot … by Officer Donovan.

  Seeing that Hugh arms were still handcuffed behind him, Jenny removed the key from Officer Donovan’s belt, and freed Hugh’s hands.

  “Come on, Jenny, Help me move the officer into his patrol car. Then we need to radio for backup.”

  They helped the officer stand up, and began walking him toward his patrol car. He was regaining his strength and his balance with almost every step.

  “It’s nothing, really. Just got conked on the head,” the officer said. “Hey, big guy, how about yanking that piece-of-junk screen out of the front seat so I can sit down.”

  “By the way, thanks.” Donovan said. “I was never so happy to see someone break out of my patrol car. You do come on awful sudden, don’t you.”

  Suddenly, they all turned as they heard the roar of an engine, and the squeal of tires on pavement. The Buick was rapidly disappearing down the road. All the hijackers were gone. The two relatively ambulatory ones had apparently picked up their dead companion, and then had helped the crippled one climb into the vehicle.

  Watching the Buick drive away, the officer said, “Guess none of those guys was mortally wounded,” The officer had missed the action when Hugh had fallen on the guy with his knee to his throat.

  “I think one of them was,” Hugh said, but he didn’t want to press the issue.

  The officer picked up the mic to radio in the incident, and to get units chasing after the Buick.

  When he had finished, he looked at Hugh. “That was a pretty fancy bit of combat there. Where did that come from?”

  “It wasn’t my first time,” he answered, not wishing to say any more

  “Obviously, this was a setup,” the officer admitted. “And apparently you were supposed to be the victim of a hijacking. I guess we picked up the wrong perps. Pretty clever of them using us like that.”

  Then he gave Jenny a long, appraising look. “And you, little lady, what do you know about all this?” he asked, putting his official Idaho State Police voice into it.

  Jenny appeared worried about the officer’s question. She looked back at Hugh, pleading with her eyes.

  “Officer, I think I can explain,” Hugh said. “It was obvious that they had forced her to go along with this hijacking, holding something over on her.” The truth of which Hugh intended to find out sooner rather than later.

  “And, I don’t intend to press charges against her. So, what happens now?” Hugh asked.

  “How about if you two follow me into Twin Falls, where we can sit down and compare notes so I can write up my report. Then you’ll be free to go.”

  Hugh and Jenny quickly nodded agreement.

  Chapter Seven

  Officer Donovan found his duty weapon on the ground where the hijacker had dropped it after being shot. There was not a significant amount of blood in the area, so he figured he must have only winged him.

  He then got back into his cruiser and onto the highway headed toward Twin Falls, checking his rear-view mirror to make sure that Hugh was following in his truck.

  The officer knew where the travel plaza was in Twin Falls, of course, so he led Hugh there as a convenient place to park and meet.

  Inside the travel plaza café, over coffee, the officer asked for Jenny’s driver’s license, and wrote down the information on it for his report. Then Hugh told the officer all that he knew, and suspected, about the men in the blue Buick … leaving out any reference to Jenny’s possible involvement in it. He would deal with her later.

  He even told Officer Donovan about the recent Susanville attempted hijacking, explaining to the trooper that there was just too much of a coincidence … four guys, etc.

  At this, he saw Jenny raise her eyebrows.

  “That Buick is most likely history by now,” Officer Donovan said. “It will probably turn up abandoned in some used car parking lot, either here or in Burley or Jerome. And the lot owner will probably be missing a car. All we can do is put out an APB.”

  Seeing Jenny’s curious look, he explained, “All points bulletin. Be on
the lookout. It seems that we have a multi-state hijacking ring operating here.”

  Jenny nodded, keeping a studiously neutral expression on her face.

  “Only thing I’m not clear on is why they seem to be targeting you in particular?” the officer asked Hugh.

  Hugh had his own theory on that, and he hoped to find out the truth as soon as he had some extended private time to talk to Jenny. But, he didn’t reveal any of that to the officer.

  Instead, he said. “I don’t know. There is a lot of empty road out here, not that many trucks. I just happen to be in the wrong places at the wrong times, I guess.”

  The officer wrapped up his note-taking, and shook hands with Jenny and Hugh. “You know? I owe you one, big guy. I honestly believe I’d be moving into my permanent new home in a pine box right now if it hadn’t been for you,” he said. “No charge for the broken screen in my car, by the way.”

  Hugh laughed. “No problem.”

  “I mean it. I owe you. If there is anything I can do for you, give me a call,” the officer said, handing his card to Hugh.

  The officer left, and Hugh and Jenny got back into his truck. He wanted to have a long conversation with Jenny in the worst way, but he was already late for his scheduled delivery time, and he had to hustle to get there before he lost his delivery window entirely.

  Hugh drove in silence to the Walmart Distribution Center delivery destination. His mind on recent events, he was on automatic pilot as he went through the process of checking in and dropping his loaded trailer.

  For her part, Jenny wasn’t saying anything, just sitting quietly in the passenger seat, trying to be as unnoticeable as possible. Burley, after all, was where she was supposed to part company with Hugh.

  He sent his arrival and completion macros over the Qualcomm. And, while hooking up to an empty, he got a message with his next assignment.

  “Salt Lake City, and then to Reno,” he told Jenny. “You up for a visit to the state of Utah?”

  Jenny’s head snapped toward Hugh, all attention on him. Her eyes begged the question.