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Authors: J. F. Gonzalez

Survivor: 1 (5 page)

BOOK: Survivor: 1
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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 on 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 traffic 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-"

"It is."

The cop had nodded, his features apologetic. "I explained to Mr. Smith the full consequences that could
happen should the outcome be found in your favor. I explained that he would be fully opening himself up to a
civil suit, and despite that, he wanted to proceed. Between you and me, I think the guy has a screw loose."

"I think he did this because he was zooming along at a hundred miles an hour," Lisa had said in a hushed whisper. She had been facing the officer, but her eyes were
fixed on Mr. Smith's back as he bent over the paperwork
at the counter. "That's why Brad didn't see him in the
lane, and it also explains why he was suddenly there
right on us. He probably got pissed off because he had to
slow down to avoid hitting us, and I'm sure it didn't make
matters any better when Brad slowed down as we descended the hill. Brad got back into the slow lane, but he
followed us, right on our tail!

The officer had nodded, looking across at Mr. Smith. `I
think that might be a safe assessment'

There had been nothing left for her to do at the substation. They wouldn't even let her see Brad, but the officer
did promise to relay a message to him. She would be
checking in at the Days Inn and would be placing a call
to his parents in Orange County, as well as his friend Billy.
She would also try contacting the DA, or a local judge, to
see what she could do in speeding the arraignment process up. If she couldn't get the wheels grinding tonight,
she would cancel their hotel reservations in Cambria
and remain in town until Monday morning. In fact, she
would be waiting at the substation bright and early Monday morning when the paddy wagon showed up to transport him to the Ventura County Courthouse. She would
be in court for the arraignment, hopefully with their
lawyer. And the minute he was out they were going to
have a little talk, the three of them, about filing a lawsuit
against Mr. Smith.

BOOK: Survivor: 1
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