I can’t believe I didn’t check my phone.
It isn’t me at all.
Then again, my focus was elsewhere. I can’t be blamed for that.
Blue lights bloom in my rearview.
“You have got to be kidding me,” I groan, hitting the steering wheel.
Star turns in her seat to look. “Are they—?” She groans too.
“Yes, they are.”
I signal and pull onto the shoulder, and the patrol car slides in behind me. I roll my window all the way down, put both hands on top of the wheel, and pull in a long breath through my nose.
It goes out again just as slow.
We don’t have time for this. We don’t have time for anything.
The cop gets out slowly. He’s a big male in uniform, and he takes his time coming over here, which is infuriating.
He stops at my window and bends and looks in at me. Then he takes a breath through his nose and smiles.
I smile back.
“Oh wow, you’re from Draig, aren’t you?” he asks.
“Morning, Officer. Yes, I am. My name is Flint.”
“How awesome. Welcome to Mistveil, Flint.”
“Yep, I work as head of security at the new rehab center.”
“You’re shitting me.” He hooks a thumb in his belt. “That’s wonderful. I saw something about that on the news the other night. How long have you been working here?”
“A few months now.”
He frowns. “So surely you would know that the speed limit is thirty miles an hour.”
I want to lie, but I can’t.
“I know. My apologies. I’m late for something. It’s no excuse at all. You can write up a fine. I get it. Can I get my ID document?”
He nods.
I pull it out of my wallet and hand it to him. He glances at it.
“Do you know how fast you were going?” he asks.
“I do. I apologize. I’m needed at a site across town for work. It’s time-sensitive. I didn’t want to be late.”
He takes out his notebook, with a pen clipped to the spine. He clicks the pen.
“You must be run off your feet. I imagine that program doesn’t leave you with a lot of downtime.”
“It doesn’t.”
“It’s good work you’re doing.” He starts writing. “You be careful up there. Hell of a thing, chasing feral males through the jungle for a living.”