Twice Upon a Roadtrip
Page 10
Jill snorted. “Women don’t like unrolling smelly socks, either. Or falling in when the toilet seat’s left up, or pulling the remote control out from under the couch cushion for the thousandth time.”
Joe looked at Jill, then at Ethan and shook his head. “Run, son. Run as far and as fast as you can.”
“I’m trying, believe me,” Ethan muttered.
“Excuse me?” Jill said, indignation burning her cheeks. “Do I need to remind you that you promised to be nice to me? Or have you decided you’re in the mood for some exercise?”
Ethan laughed and slapped her knee. “Sorry, sunshine, but this isn’t your car. You didn’t pay for it. You didn’t sign for it. Since I stole it, it’s my car.”
Jill opened her mouth to tell him exactly what he could do with his car, but her words were drowned out by shrill sirens. She looked in the sideview mirror and her heart nearly stopped when a car raced up behind them, lights flashing.
“It’s the law! Make a run for it!” Joe yelled. “Put the pedal to the metal, boy!”
* * * * *
Ethan flipped on the turn signal and eased his foot off the gas. Putting the pedal to the metal was not an option. With his bad luck charm buckled in beside him, no doubt he’d cause a fifty-car pileup if he tried to outrun the police.
“Step on it, boy!” Joe shouted. “That’s Sheriff Dodd and Deputy Parker back there. Dumber’n a box of rocks, both of them. Put your blinker on left then turn right. That’ll lose ‘em!”
“I can’t turn,” Ethan growled. “I’m on the highway.”
He coasted the Taurus onto the shoulder and came to a nice, easy rolling stop. Leaning forward, he reached for his back pocket.
His empty back pocket. Anxiety cranked up the heat in his stomach when he remembered his wallet was tucked safely in his mother’s purse. He closed his eyes. Took a deep breath. He was in a stolen rental car with a lunatic and the old man they had kidnapped. And he had no identification. There was no way in hell he would even think can this day get any worse?
“This ain’t the time for meditatin’ son. We can still get away. Wait for them to get out, then step on it.”
Ethan glared at Jill, who was barely managing to contain her laughter. “Do something about Patty Hearst back there.”
“Like what? I forgot my ACME Kidnapping Kit this morning. No duct tape.”
“Smart-ass.” He watched the sideview mirror as the patrol car came to a stop behind them. There were two men in the car, but only the driver got out.
He was the tallest man Ethan had ever seen, weighed less than Jill soaking wet and had an Adam’s apple the size of a baseball. He also had a pretty big shotgun cradled in his arms.
“Make sure you speak up, son,” Joe said. “Junior Parker’s deaf as a crow-eaten cornstalk.”
Jill giggled and Ethan glared at her. She put up her hands in a defensive gesture. “No ears, get it?”
He hit the button to lower the window. “I don’t know how you can see any humor in this.”
She put her hand on his knee, which did little to calm his nerves. “Relax, Ethan. This is all a misunderstanding. They’re not going to put us on the chain gang for—”
The unmistakable sound of a round being jacked into a pump-action shotgun interrupted her sentence, along with his heartbeat.
Joe whistled between his dentures. “Holy sh—”
“Attention, kidnappers!” Deputy Parker shouted. “Put your hands out the window where I can see them.”
Ethan leaned close to the door and rested his wrists on the door, his hands in plain sight of the deputy. At least if he threw up, he could stick his head out.
He heard the whir of power windows, and then Joe’s hands appeared alongside his. He assumed Jill had done the same.
“Not you, Joe Jackson,” Deputy Parker yelled. “You go on and get out of the car.”
“You’ll never take me alive!” Joe shouted, and Ethan thumped his head down on the door between his arms. “I’m going to Orlando with these folks.”
“You ain’t going anywhere but back to your family,” Deputy Parker argued. “Bobbi Jo’s damned near turned the whole town upside down. You know how she is when she’s upset.”
“Why do you think I’m going to Orlando?”
Moving in slow motion to avoid startling the deputy, Ethan lifted his head to look at Joe. The rear windows didn’t lower all the way for safety, so the old man’s fingers curled over the glass. He grinned at Ethan, who shook his head.
“I’m glad you’re having a good time, but that man has a loaded shotgun pointed at my head. Will you please explain to him that this is just a misunderstanding?”
Before Joe could respond, Deputy Parker took a step closer to the Taurus, mindful he didn’t get taken out by any of the cars passing them. “You there—driver.”
“Yes, sir?” Ethan replied in his most respectful tone.
“Get out of the car, slowly and come back around to the trunk.”
He pulled his arm in to open the door.
“Hey!” Deputy Parker pulled the shotgun butt to his shoulder. “Keep your hands where I can see them!”
Ethan thrust both his wrists out again. He glanced down, then back at the deputy. “With which part of my body do you think I’m going to open the door?”
That stumped the officer for a moment. Ethan waited patiently, not about to make any sudden moves. He could hear Jill breathing a little faster than normal behind him, but he wasn’t about to risk turning to check on her. At least she’d stopped laughing.
“Just reach right down and use the outside door handle,” Deputy Parker instructed. “Step on out, letting the door open as you go. That’s right. Now put your hands on top of your head and come on back.”
During the short walk, Ethan looked at the big man still sitting in the passenger seat of the patrol car. He appeared to be sleeping, which surprised him. This was probably the most exciting thing to happen in this area since NASCAR.
“Lean over the trunk and spread ‘em,” Deputy Parker ordered.
Disbelief filled Ethan’s mind, giving a disconnected-from-reality feeling. That had to rank right up there on the list of things he’d never expected to hear directed at him. “Deputy, I—”
“You got the right to remain silent.”
“Okay.”
“You got other rights, too, but I can never remember what in blue blazes they are. Sheriff Dodd’s got the card, so he’ll read them to y’all when he wakes up.”
Ethan placed his palms flat on the trunk and spread his legs. A passing car honked. It never looked as humiliating on those reality shows, he thought.
When nothing else happened, he risked a glance over his shoulder. The deputy was frowning at the shotgun cradled in his arms. It was pretty clear the man had no idea how to frisk him while holding the gun.
“I don’t have any weapons on me,” Ethan said, figuring the more helpful he was, the easier the whole process would be. “And nothing in my pockets.”
Deputy Parker scoffed. “Yeah, I’m gonna believe a kidnapper. I didn’t just fall off the turnip truck last night.”
“I’ll frisk him for you,” Joe shouted, hanging his head out the window like a Golden Retriever.
“Joe!” The deputy was starting to sound frazzled and that made Ethan nervous. Confused, half-deaf lawmen with lethal weapons had that effect on him. “You get on out of the car now.”
While Joe got out of the car, Ethan looked through the back window and met Jill’s gaze. She wasn’t laughing anymore, but her amusement was still evident. This was a big joke to her.
Well, they’d see how funny it was when she was the one spread-eagled over the trunk of the car with a steadily streaming audience of camera-wielding vacationers.
Ethan forced himself to take a deep breath. If he didn’t relax, he’d blow a blood vessel right here on the side of the highway.
Jill’s right, he told himself. Once the cops stood still long enough to hear their st
ory, they’d be free and on their way. Nothing to be stressed about.
* * * * *
“You go on and see if Sheriff Dodd’s coming around,” Jill heard Deputy Parker say.
Ethan had shut off the car. Even with the windows down, it was stifling without air conditioning and she had a strong urge to pant. Ethan might be bent over the trunk at gunpoint, but at least he had a breeze.
“Can we hurry this up a little?” she called. Her question was rewarded with nothing but a hard, warning glare from Ethan. The deputy didn’t give any indication he’d heard her.
“Get on up,” Joe was saying to the sheriff, “before Parker goes and shoots himself in the foot.”
Jill watched the big man haul himself out of the car, then walk over to exchange a few words with his deputy. Her eyes met Ethan’s and disbelief flooded her when Sheriff Dodd handcuffed him and read off a list of his rights.
They weren’t going to let them explain? She was sure if they’d just listen to the story, they’d all be sharing a laugh in no time. Really, what were the chances of two rented, white Tauruses ending up in the same backwater diner’s parking lot at the same time? It could have happened to anybody.
The sheriff hauled Ethan away from the trunk. “Junior, you go and get the woman out while I put this one in the car.”
Deputy Parker walked around the passenger side of the car and Jill had to swallow twice to clear the lump in her throat. She’d never seen a shotgun so up close and personal before.
“Come on out, nice and slow,” he instructed, keeping the gun pointed enough in her general direction to make her pray she didn’t sneeze.
“Officer, I can explain—”
“You got the right to remain silent, too.” He snapped handcuffs around her wrists and panic almost made her wet herself. She was in custody!
“But I don’t want to,” she argued in a high-pitched voice she’d never heard come out of her own mouth before. “I want to clear this up.”
“She giving you trouble, Junior?” the sheriff demanded.
Jill watched Sheriff Dodd push down on the top of Ethan’s head and stuff him through the back door of the cruiser. He had a blank look on his face, as if he couldn’t believe this was really happening. Can’t blame him, she thought. He’d probably never had so much as a parking ticket.
The sheriff slammed the door closed and started back. “I’ll take care of her while you search the car.”
“Don’t you go opening that trunk without a warrant, Junior Parker,” Joe shouted. “There just might be dead bodies in there.”
Jill watched in disbelief as the sheriff slid down the front of the cruiser and came to rest with his head on the front bumper. Seconds later a raucous snore shook his body.
“What’s wrong with him?” she asked the deputy.
The tiny man gave her a sideways look. “Who’s Jim?”
“No,” Jill pointed at the car, “what’s wrong with him?”
“That ain’t Jim,” Deputy Parker shouted. “Lady, that’s Sheriff Dodd, like he said. You got dead bodies in that trunk?”
“No! No, it was just a joke. I was kidding around about how maybe the person who rented the car before Joe’s daughter was in the mafia and…” Jill let the sentence trail off. She wasn’t making a lick of sense and he probably couldn’t hear her anyway.
He leaned in close, sniffing at her face. “You been drinkin’ today?”
“I wish.”
Deputy Parker nodded. “We all do a little drinkin’ when we fish, ma’am, but you can’t be drivin’ around after. Especially in a stolen car with a kidnapping victim. We got laws in this state.”
“I wasn’t driving!” Jill yelled. “He was.”
The deputy looked over at the patrol car. “From the way he keeps smilin’ in there, I’d say he’s even more drunk than you.”
Jill looked closer at Ethan. Yes, he was smiling. But not in an amused way. More in a they’re coming to take me away, haha kind of way.
“Ain’t neither of them been drinkin’, Junior Parker,” Grandpa Joe hollered out the front window of the cruiser. “You let them go now.”
“Now, Joe, you done been kidnapped. I reckon you ain’t in your right mind at the moment. Soon as Sheriff Dobbs comes ‘round we’ll get you on back to your family.”
“Any idea when that might be?” Jill asked.
“Oh, any time now. If he gets too excited, he just conks out for a while. He’ll be fine in a few minutes and we can get y’all down to the jailhouse.”
This wasn’t funny anymore. Remembering to shout, she said, “Look, Deputy, this is all just a misunderstanding.”
“What’s to misunderstand? You took a car that don’t belong to you. That’s grand theft auto. And you took ole Joe with it. That there’s kidnapping. What about that don’t you understand, ma’am?”
Well, when he put it like that… “We thought this was our rental car. We didn’t mean to steal it.”
“Tell it to the judge.”
The judge? A picture of herself, standing on a platform in an orange jumpsuit with her hair tangled and greasy flashed into her mind. This couldn’t go all the way to trial. Could it?
The deputy escorted her past Joe and the sleeping sheriff. She was careful not to trip over the man’s legs. They’d probably add assaulting an officer of the law to the list of charges against her.
Deputy Parker opened the back door and helped her sit backwards on the bench seat. Then he pushed down on the top of her head and said, “Swing your legs inside the vehicle, ma’am.”
The door slammed shut. She turned her head, and she and Ethan simply stared at each other until Joe opened the door and pushed his way in.
Shoved up against Ethan, Jill took a second to register that she was, in fact, handcuffed in the back of a police car. And there was no chance of convincing herself it was all a nightmare. The handcuffs pinched her wrists hard enough to wake her from a coma.
“I’m gonna ride with y’all,” Joe informed them in an unbearably cheerful voice that made Jill wince. “Just waitin’ on Sheriff Dodd to wake up and call the tow truck.”
“Why can’t they simply each drive a vehicle back?” Ethan asked, beating her to the question.
“Oh, the sheriff can’t drive. He gets a little excited and falls asleep, he might run the car right into a tree. Junior Parker drives him everywhere. And they gotta impound that one—search for contraband and stuff.”
“Contraband?” Jill repeated. “Do they think we’re smuggling aliens, too?”
The old man gave her a sideways look. “Now, girl…you start goin’ on about little green men, they’re likely to send you over to the county hospital before long.”
“No, I meant…never mind.”
Jill leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. Even in the air-conditioned cruiser, the heat from Ethan’s body was incredible. She let herself wonder for a second what it would be like to curl up next to him in bed on a cold winter’s night.
Heavenly, she decided. Without thinking, she shifted, resting her head on his shoulder. Instead of pulling away, he leaned his cheek against her hair.
“We’ll get this all straightened out back at the station,” he murmured. “I’ll take care of it.”
And he would, she thought. Some of the tension eased from her body. Ethan would take care of her. Funny how she didn’t feel even a bit claustrophobic at the thought.
Chapter Nine
The bars swung closed with a clang worthy of The Gong Show. Hooked—exit, cell right. Ethan took a step back from the door, the bitter taste of anger burning his throat. This simply couldn’t be happening to him. He’d never even had a speeding ticket, and now he was locked up?
“I want to use the phone,” he yelled at the deputy’s retreating back.
“You can’t go home,” Deputy Parker yelled back.
“No, I…” It was too late. The man was already gone.
Damn. How was he supposed to call a lawyer if h
e couldn’t use the phone? While it was true most of his knowledge of criminal proceedings came from primetime television, he was sure that one phone call was within his rights. So was a lawyer.
Somewhere between the fingerprinting and the photo session, he’d realized that an attorney might make a better advisor at this point than Jill. Her don’t worry, it’s just a misunderstanding attitude wasn’t getting them very far.
He scrubbed his face with his palms. It was early evening now. After an hour and a half wait for the only tow truck in the area, which apparently had a bad starter and was hit or miss, they arrived at the small, brick jailhouse. That’s when they discovered the process had only begun. Now, with ink-stained fingers and no shoelaces, he tried to resign himself to a long wait. And to the possibility there would be no placing of bail and cushy hotel bed tonight.
But he wanted to call a lawyer, and then he needed to call his mother. There was no telling what ideas the woman would get into her head when he didn’t arrive as promised. She’d probably either think he was lying dead in a ditch somewhere, or had run off to Vegas with Jill.
Too bad she hadn’t spent less time worrying about whether or not he had a condom and more time wondering if he had bail money.
“Are you mad at me?” Jill asked in a small voice, breaking into his thoughts.
Ethan peered through the bars at the cell across the wide hallway. She sat on the narrow cot, her arms wrapped around drawn-up knees. Her face was pale and, though he couldn’t be sure from this distance, he thought her bottom lip was trembling.
Hell yes, he was mad at her. And himself. And Joe Jackson and the sheriff and his deputy and that dumbass bus driver. He was pretty pissed off at everybody he’d ever met. But this one particular incident wasn’t really her fault, and even if she was responsible in a roundabout way, he couldn’t kick her while she was down.
He sighed, letting his forehead rest on the cold bars. “No, sunshine. I’m not mad.”
“It’s okay if you are. This is the worst trouble I’ve caused yet.”