“Upset is no excuse. You need to be more careful. If you’re that upset, you shouldn’t be driving in the first place.”
“I know.”
“And you need to strap your daughter into the back seat, according to the law.”
“Yes sir.”
The cop opened his mouth as if to continue his lecture, but apparently changed his mind. “May I see your driver’s license, please?”
“Sure,” Neal said, pulling out his wallet. He handed the license to the policeman and then glanced at all the cars that were slowly rolling by, and at the people in them who were gawking at him.
The cop shined his light on Neal’s license and studied it. “Mr. Becker, how about moving your care over to the shoulder of the road, so it’s not blocking traffic. And strap your daughter into the back seat, where she belongs.”
“Okay.” Neal hesitated briefly, not wanting to get back into the car with Natasha. The cop did not take his eyes off Neal—his square-jawed face showed a kind of suspicious curiosity.
Neal reluctantly climbed back inside his car, started the engine, and moved it over the shoulder of the road, aligning it with the traffic. He was aware of Natasha’s steady breathing, but he would not allow himself even to look in her direction. Avoiding her eyes, he picked up her car seat and moved it into the back, his hands shaking so violently the buckle chattered a little bit as he secured her. He wasn’t sure if it was a curse or a blessing to have her in the back seat—he wouldn’t have to look at her face, but God knows what she might do behind his back.
He quickly shut the door and walked back around to the driver’s side of the car.
“Please wait inside your car, sir,” the female cop told him from the window of the patrol car.
“I really need some air,” Neal said, “if you don’t mind.”
The policewoman eyed him momentarily, then said something to the other officer, who was now sitting beside her in the police car. They talked for a few long minutes—Neal could hear the police radio crackling, a dispatcher giving them information. He thought he heard the word “hospital.”
The policeman finally got back out of the patrol car.
“The address on your license isn’t correct,” he told Neal.
“No. I just moved a few months ago.”
The cop motioned down the street with his flashlight. “You live right down the road here, then.”
“That’s right.”
“You realize I could cite you for reckless driving, don’t you?”
“Yes sir.”
“And for not having your child properly secured in the back seat.”
“Yes, of course.”
He glanced down at Neal’s bandaged foot again. “And for not wearing your shoes. Technically, you can’t drive barefoot.”
Neal nodded.
The cop sighed. “Well...since you’ve had a rough day, I’m gonna give you a break.” He paused, and for the first time, his rugged face softened. “I heard about your wife earlier today—one of my buddies was on the scene. Pretty messy. How’s she doin’?”
“Not too good,” Neal said.
The policeman nodded sympathetically. “Well, you got to be more careful. This is no time for recklessness, Mr. Becker. Your child needs you more than ever right now.”
“Yes sir,” Neal said, trying to appear grateful. Getting a measly traffic ticket was the least of his worries. In fact, he almost wished they would arrest him.
The cop handed Neal back his license. For an instant, Neal considered taking a swing at him. Then they would have to arrest him and he’d be in jail for a couple of days at least, and Natasha wouldn’t be his problem anymore.
But Neal just got back into his car, aware of both officers watching. He gave them an appreciative wave as he pulled away, then glanced over his shoulder at Natasha. He wasn’t afraid of her anymore—he was too pissed off at her to be afraid. But at the moment, there wasn’t much to fear. She was still behaving the same way she had in front of the cop, playing the role of the innocent child, kicking her legs around and making cute little baby noises.
Neal was actually glad that he had almost had an accident and gotten pulled over—it had shaken him back into reality. What was so scary about her, anyway? Of course, the policeman didn’t know she was only five months old and could already talk. But so what if the damn baby could talk? What harm could it do? Let her say whatever she wanted.
Sticks and stones may break my bones...
Neal focused his eyes on the road ahead of him and told himself that no matter what Natasha said, he wasn’t going to let her get under his skin.
(End of Book 1 – to be continued)
To purchase Book 2 (and conclusion) of Baby Talk, please go to my website at www.mikewellsbooks.com
A Letter to My Readers
Hello, Dear Reader!
I hope you enjoyed Baby Talk. If so, you’ll like many of my other novels. I write in a variety of genres—thrillers & suspense, romance, young adult, and horror. All my stories are written in the same gripping, fast-paced style with plenty of suspense and surprises. As I say on my website, my goal has always been to write novels that are so engaging and entertaining that you can’t stop reading after a couple of pages—“unputdownable” books. You can read all my book descriptions and read/download free chapters on my website/blog, www.thegreenwater.com
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Mike Wells