Flashing blue and red lights danced along the dome on top of the patrol car as it tailed them, the twin beams of its headlights flashing. The officer activated the siren briefly. Brad felt a stab of fear in the pit of his belly. Why is he pulling me over? I'm not speeding. I'm-
"I don't believe this," Lisa said, glancing back behind her shoulder.
"1 don't either," Brad said, as he signaled and merged to the right-hand shoulder and stopped.
He looked in the rearview mirror and saw that the patrol car had moved in behind him and was now parked, its lights still flashing. But that wasn't what made the pit of ice in his belly stab into him harder.
It was the van that pulled up behind the patrol car and parked behind it that sent his nerves twitching.
"Oh my God," Lisa said, her voice hollow. She looked at Brad, and her blue eyes were wide and scared-looking. "What the hell is going on?"
"I don't know," Brad said, keeping his hands on the steering wheel. He watched in the rearview mirror as the officer approached the passenger side of the car. Lisa rolled down the window.
The patrol officer was thin, in his mid-thirties, with thin, angular features, brown hair, and a mustache. Dark sunglasses hid his eyes. He leaned down and looked at Brad. "Can I see your license and registration, please?"
"Yeah, sure." Brad fumbled for his wallet, got the identification out, and handed it over. The officer glanced at them, then looked back at him. "Got a call that you were doing some reckless driving back there. Speeding up real fast, then braking suddenly, swerving all over the road, trying to cause accidents."
Lisa looked over at Brad, confused, then back at the officer. "You must be mistaken, officer. We weren't doing anything like that."
"I didn't say you, ma'am. I meant him." He motioned to Brad, his voice taking on a tone of condescending.
"I haven't been doing anything like that," Brad said. He could feel his hands shaking. His voice, when he spoke, was thick and guttural. He had never felt so nervous in his life.
"I don't really care what you say," the officer said. "The person that called it in saw it and requested a citizen's arrest."
Lisa's features went pale. Brad couldn't believe what was happening. "There's some mistake," he heard himself saying. "I wasn't driving the way you said I was. I was going the speed limit, I was-"
"Save it," the cop said. "The person that reported it saw it and wants to make a citizen's arrest. I'm going to run your ID, then I'm going to go back to the person that made the complaint to confirm that you're the person he saw committing the violation. When he called it in he sped up to get your license plate number, so I'm sure identification won't be a problem. When that's done, I'll place you in custody-"
Place me in custody? Brad's heartbeat slammed harder.
"… then, depending on what time it is, we'll see if we can get you before the judge to arrange bail and then. "The cop looked at his wristwatch and shook his head. "Nope. It's a little after four o'clock. Courthouse is already closed. Anyway, it looks like you'll be in custody till Monday morning, when the courthouse opens again and bail can be arranged."
"Tis is bullshit!" Lisa's voice took on a high-pitched shrill. "We weren't doing anything! That guy-"
"Shut up," the cop said casually. "I don't really care one way or the other. It's your word against his, and he witnessed it. Wait here while I call this in and have a talk with him." Without another word, the officer walked back to his car.
Brad watched him go, feeling light-headed and dazed. He had never been in trouble with the law before, had never been guilty of anything except a parking ticket. For a moment he forgot his knowledge of California criminal law from law school. He was in private practice in family law, and hadn't been keeping up on criminal law much since getting his law degree. Surely this had to be some kind of mistake. His heart hammered in his chest as he watched the cop go back to his squad car and slide behind the wheel.
Lisa turned to Brad as he watched the cop type his information on the computer in his car. "'this is fucking bullshit! That asshole is just trying to fuck with us. We should be the one calling the cops on his ass to make a citizen's arrest!" Lisa had turned from a confused, scared woman to a woman with seething, righteous anger. When Lisa got angry, she got explosive and cursed like a sailor. And when she got explosive, you didn't want to be around her.
"1 didn't do anything," Brad said, still in a daze. "1-1-" He didn't know what to say.
"No shit, we didn't do anything." Lisa fumed. "And when that asshole cop comes back, I'm going to demand a citizen's arrest on that asshole in the van."
Hearing the venom in Lisa's voice injected some in Brad's own system, although now that he was thinking about it he realized that Lisa wouldn't be able to do that. It was all coming to him now: To assist in a citizen's arrest, the officer had to confirm that the violation in question was a felony punishable by at least a year in jail. If the guy was claiming speeding and reckless driving with intent to cause bodily injury, that would be enough for the officer to place him in custody. Lisa couldn't do a damn thing except represent him in court Monday. His stomach still churned, but he felt a sudden burst of adrenaline. "Let's see what that guy tells him," he said, watching the cop in his rearview mirror and the van parked behind it, its windshield a solid black screen.
"You're not going to jail," Lisa said, watching the scene from her side mirror. "I'm going to tell him I want to place a citizen's arrest myself. The guy in the van was stalking us and tailgating us. If that asshole wants to play at this game, that's just fine with me."
Brad's mind was racing. Worst-case scenario, maybe Lisa could contact a local judge over the weekend, get him to look at the case. Maybe we can get this dismissed by tonight. Yeah, that's the ticket-
"He's going to talk to the guy in the van now," Lisa said, watching from the sideview mirror. Brad watched from the rearview mirror. The cop stood at the passenger side of the van as he talked to the guy, who was still hard to make out due to the dark windshield. They were silent as they watched the conversation take place. What is he telling him? Brad wondered. What are they discussing? The few minutes that the cop spent talking to the faceless driver in the van felt like five hours.
Finally, the cop headed back to their car. Brad felt his gut tighten as the cop drew abreast of the Lexus, placing the driver's license in his breast pocket. His right hand went down to the grip of his firearm. "Would you please step out of the car, ma'am?"
Lisa cast a fearful, wide-eyed glance back at Brad. The cop leaned forward, looking directly at Brad. And would you please place your hands on the steering wheel so I can see them, Mr. Miller?"
I can't believe this is happening, Brad thought as he put his hands on the steering wheel. His heart was racing madly. I can't believe this fucking asshole is doing this!
Lisa stepped out of the Lexus. "I would like to make a citizen's arrest of my own, officer-"
"Shut up."'Ihe officer leaned toward the open passenger side of the car. Speaking directly to Brad, he said: "I want you to open the driver's-side door with your left hand, keeping your right hand on the steering wheel where I can see it.'
"Did you hear what I just said?" Lisa's tone of voice was taking on that righteous pissed-off anger that it tended to get when she was ignored. "1 said-"
"I'm telling you to shut up now, or I'll be taking two people to the Ventura County Jail today." The cop glared at her, then turned back to Brad, the subject of Lisa's interruption dismissed as he tended to the arrest at hand. "Now I want you to step out of the car carefully with your hands over your head where I can see them."
Brad did what the officer told him, the adrenaline pounding in his veins. Lisa stood at the side of the road in shock. When he got out of the car, he saw the officer standing on the other side of the vehicle, his mirror shades black and menacing. Lisa looked helpless and angry. "Put your hands on your head and walk around the front of the vehicle and come toward me."
Brad put his hands o
n his head and walked around the front of the Lexus on wobbly legs. When his feet reached the side of the road, the officer stepped forward. "Turn around."
Brad turned around and the officer grabbed his wrists, jerking them behind his back. He felt the cold snap of steel around his wrists as he was handcuffed. "Now I want you to sit down while I go and get the person that issued the compliant. Stay here." He helped Brad to a sitting position on the ground, then walked back toward the van.
Lisa knelt down beside him. "Everything will be okay. When we get to the police station, I'll call contact the District Attorney of Ventura County. We'll get this taken care of."
Brad felt a lump in his throat; he felt like crying, but not out.of fear. He felt a sudden outpouring of blinding, white-hot rage. "Call Billy, too." William Greckd was a friend of Brad's family and a criminal defense lawyer in Orange County. He was a brilliant, if annoying, criminal defense attorney. He was brilliant because he had a knack for getting some of the most repugnant people off with little more than a slap on the wrist. He was annoying because he was an alcoholic, one who was a pain in the ass to be around when he drank.
"I want to kill that fucking sonofabitch," Lisa said, her voice trembling. Tears appeared at the corner of her eyes, but her voice carried a tone of anger and loss of their weekend together being suddenly destroyed.
"Just be calm," Brad said. "We don't need you in jail this weekend, too. I need you to be calm to get us out of this, okay?"
"1 love you," Lisa said. She kissed him quickly, and then the sound of approaching footsteps caused them both to look up as twin shadows fell across them.
The man standing next to the officer was of medium height, but overweight with a huge belly. He had sandy hair that was balding at the top and a scruffy, sandy beard. He was wearing a T-shirt with the word Hawaii on it in a tropical design, and a pair of faded blue jeans and white tennis shoes. He was wearing sunglasses. He grinned wide.
The officer looked at the driver of the van, then nodded down at Brad. "Okay, you can go ahead."
The man took a step forward, grinning at Brad. "I'm placing you under citizen's arrest for reckless driving, asshole. That'll teach you to fucking pull in front of people on the highway."
Lisa shot to her feet. "This man is lying, Officer. He's been harassing us ever since we pulled out of the last rest stop outside of Ventura. He's been tailgating us and-"
"1 don't want to hear it: the cop said. He reached down and pulled Brad to his feet, his hard callused fingers digging into the flesh of Brad's upper right arm. "And I ain't letting you make a cross-complaint, because this gentleman witnessed you make several felony driving violations. Your only recourse is in court when your husband goes up for trial. If the case is dismissed or he's found not guilty, then you can seek civil recourse against Mr. Smith, here."
Brad glared at the man the officer referred to as Mr. Smith, who smiled back at him. That smile seemed to say I got you, you stupid luck. Teach you to fuck with me.
"I hope you have deep pockets, Mr. Smith," Lisa said, nearly spitting the words out. "You've picked the wrong people to fuck with; my husband and I are both lawyers, and when this is over we are going to sue you so fucking bad you won't be able to find a shopping cart to live in!"
Mr. Smith smiled at her. "My apologies for being a concerned motorist, ma'am." He turned to the officer. "Do I need to do anything else, Officer?"
"You need to follow me to the station to fill out some paperwork," the officer said. He began to lead Brad toward the patrol car. To Lisa: "Lawyers, huh? Looks like you'll be needing one yourselves, ma'am."
"I plan on having a word with your captain, too," Lisa said.
"Whatever." The cop opened the back passenger-side door of his cruiser and Brad slid inside. "Watch your head," the officer said.
Brad looked up at Lisa. "Call Billy, honey."
"I'll follow you to the police station," Lisa said. The officer slammed the door.
"Okay," the officer said, turning to Lisa. His face was expressionless, his features stony. "Let's get this show on the road."
Three
The Days Inn off the Interstate had vacancies. Lisa Miller was sitting on the lumpy queen-sized mattress in her room, her suitcase opened, phone book out. The curtains were drawn, the rays of the setting sun bleeding through and casting shades of orange across the table and part of the bed. Lisa and Brad had been looking forward to this vacation for the past six months; now it was shot to hell thanks to that Mr. Smith asshole.
Thinking about the situation again made Lisa want to smash something, preferably Mr. Smith's smug, self-righteous face. The nerve of that man!
She had seethed the whole time she was at the sheriff's substation. First she had to watch Brad be led back to the jail. Then she had to watch that prick of a cop come out with some paperwork and talk to that Mr. Smith numbfuck who had been standing on the opposite side of the lobby, pausing every now and then to grin at her. It was hard to ignore the man; she had to fight the urge to walk across the lobby and rip his smug face off his skull. Just you wait, she had thought as she watched the officer hand the paperwork to Mr. Smith and instructed him on how to fill it out. When this is over, I'm not even going to wait for Brad to come to trial. I'm going to slap you with the biggest lawsuit you've ever seen. You won't know what hit you. You'll wish you had driven that fucking van of yours off a cliff
When the officer was finished with Mr. Smith, he had come to her. He wasn't wearing those stupid cop sun glasses anymore. His eyes were like cold flint. They were cop's eyes-cold, unemotional, uncaring. "I need to explain to you your legal rights and the ramifications of a citizen's arrest," he began. "The first thing I suggest is find yourself a motel room in the area. Your husband is going to be in a cell until Monday, when we can drive him to the Ventura County courthouse and have him arraigned. The bail will probably be low, but you can never tell what mood the judge will be in. I suggest getting a lawyer this weekend."
"I've already got one," Lisa huffed, arms crossed in front of her chest, looking boldly at the officer.
"You mentioned back at the scene that you and your husband are lawyers; what,kind?"
"Family law"
"Then I'll explain to you what you may not have learned in law school. The reason I can't allow you to make a citizen's arrest on Mr. Smith is because one, your claim, if it's true, is a misdemeanor offense. Mr. Smith claims to have witnessed felonies. The minimum statute which a private citizen can file a complaint for a citizen's arrest is a felony punishable by up to one year in prison. That's just the minimum."
"And driving within the legal limits of the law is a felony," Lisa said with a hint of sarcasm. "I see. 7bank you for clarifying that for me".
The officer ignored the remark and continued. "When I talked to Mr. Smith back at the scene, I explained all the legal ramifications to him. I don't know what happened back there because I didn't see it. Mr. Smith claims to have witnessed your husband driving in a reckless manner in a way that would have put other motorists in grave danger. His descriptions to the 911 operator amounted to that of at least two felonies, and that's when I was dispatched. Otherwise I wouldn't have made the arrest. I did explain to Mr. Smith the consequences he could face should the case be thrown out, or if your husband is found not guilty; that he could face a civil lawsuit. He was firm that he understood and that he wanted to pursue the complaint, so by law I was obligated to place your husband in custody."
"Should this go to trial, is he called as a witness?" Lisa asked, motioning across the room toward Mr. Smith.
"Depends on what the DA says. The paperwork Mr. Smith is filling out will require him to explain precisely what he saw, including information on where he lives and other contact information. In most cases, that is all anyone needs to do in making a citizen's arrest. In some cases, nothing further is needed of the witness. That isn't always the case!
"So all this crap that asshole says we did… speeding, and swerving dangerously in traff
ic and braking suddenly… that's a felony?"
"Reckless driving with the intent to cause grave bodily injury or property damage is a felony in the state of California," the cop said. "Like I said, the minimum for which a citizen-and that's anybody-can file a citizen's arrest is that the crime they witness has to be a felony punishable by up to one year in jail. That's why you don't hear about people making citizen's and on jaywalkers."
"What about witnesses?" Lisa asked. "Or physical evidence? Will the DA try to gather some?"
"Who knows?" The officer shrugged. "My guess is they won't. A case like this, it's you and your husband's word against Mr. Smith's. Personally, I think the DA will take one look at this case Monday morning and decline to file charges. I told Mr. Smith that I didn't think he had a very good chance in something like this, especially out on an open highway. Of course, if other people call in to say they saw it happening, then there might be a stronger case. But unless that happens, there isn't much to go on." The cop cocked his head and his features became softer. "If you don't mind me asking, did you notice this guy before this happened?"
Lisa had almost exploded with anger, but she held it in. We're only told you eight million fucking times that this asshole was dogging us all the way from the last rest stop! Instead she had said, We noticed him just after we pulled out of a rest stop twenty miles or so back. There wasn't much traffic, and Brad made a lane change to pass a slow-moving vehicle. There was nobody, and I mean nobody in that lane, and then all of a sudden that guy," she motioned to Mr. Smith, "was right there on our ass, tailgating us like crazy."
The cop had actually listened. He had nodded as Lisa spun the story, his eyes darting over to Mr. Smith, then settling back on Lisa. Lisa had felt a little better that somebody was finally listening to her now, but she was still angry over the way she and Brad had been treated, especially at the hands of this cop. When she was finished, the cop nodded. "I'm sorry for what happened," he had said. "I'll be perfectly honest in saying that I really can't do anything about the situation. But I would like to say off the record that I think the judge or the DA is going to take one look at the complaint against your husband and throw it out. I know your vacation is probably all shot to hell now-"
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