Lisa turned the Blondie CD back on. Debbie Harry began singing about being an X Offender.
They were relaxed enough now to make small talk. Lisa started talking about a transgression that had occurred at the office. Brad listened, wondering silently how his wife put up with those incompetent assholes at the law office. "So all they want to do is complain about all the work they have-like nobody else does? — and then they sit around and file their nails and gossip all day, and then complain about all the work they have and how they can never get anything done. George Brooks doesn't even notice what's going on. He spends all day in his office. And meanwhile, I'm trying to hold the department together, and Amy won't do anything to pare the deadweight down, and-"
Brad was listening, but he was monitoring the traffic behind him. The van was still behind them at a good distance. They were drawing dose to another slow-moving vehiclean old Ford piloted by a little old lady with blue hair and thick spectacles, barely tall enough to peer over the dashboard. Brad signaled for a lane change, checked his mirrors, and swung into the next lane to pass the Ford. The van changed lanes also, still a safe distance behind them.
He's changing lanes because he sees the Ford is crawling at a snail's pace. Brad thought. He tried to reassure himself with this thought, but a small part of him suggested that wasn't so. That part suggested that the faceless driver of the van still had a burr up his ass and was trying to be discreet about following them.
When Brad saw that he was at a comfortable distance past the Ford, he signaled for another lane change and merged back into the slow lane. The van did likewise, still a respectable distance behind him.
"So I just don't know what to do anymore," Lisa was saying, looking out at the road ahead of them. "Sometimes I wonder if l should just go directly to Debbie and-"
He listened. And he nodded and responded at the appropriate times. And he watched the road ahead of him and monitored the van behind them. It stayed a good distance back, never retreating nor accelerating to catch up.
And every time Brad changed lanes to pass a slower vehicle, the van did likewise. After three times Brad began to get an eerie feeling that the driver of the van hadn't forgotten the minor transgression fifteen minutes back. It was a feeling that gnawed at him, creating a pit of unease in his belly.
Lisa appeared not to notice what was going on. And I won't say anything, Brad thought. It'll just freak her out. Besides, it's probably just my imagination. I mean, why would-
'The van suddenly sped up, closing the gap between them. Brad expected it to tailgate him again, but it didn't. It crept up to one car length away and then eased up, widening the gap between them. Lisa, who had been talking about work, noticed the change of expression on Brad's face as the van accelerated, and glanced in her sideview mirror. "What the hell is he doing now?"
"1 don't know. But he's been following us the whole way."
"Are you serious?" Lisa watched the van out of her sideview mirror.
"Yeah. Every time we change lanes, he does the same thing. I almost get the feeling he's… well… stalking us."
"Why don't we pull over?" Lisa said, turning to Brad now with a scared expression. "Let's just get off at the next exit, pull into a gas station or something, and call the police."
"What for? The guy hasn't actually done anything"
Lisa looked like she was at a loss for words. "Well, at least we could see if he pulls off the road, too. It's better than nothing."
Brad nodded, eyes on the road, glancing back at the van behind them. For the past twenty minutes or so, the van had kept a safe distance behind them, never out of their sight even when other cars were in front of it. That was what worried him.
"I don't know. It's probably nothing. I mean, it's not like 1-"
"'There's a cop up ahead"
Brad looked. Parked in the grassy median between the north and south lanes was a California Highway Patrol car, as if the officer was laying a speed trap. Brad selfconsciously checked his speed-he was well within the speed limit-,and then they were zooming past the police car. His eyes darted to the rearview mirror just in time to see the patrol car pull into the highway behind them. It's just a coincidence, Brad thought. Surely he can't be lying in wait for us-
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.