Page 4 of Road Trip
Words of joy and gratitude spilled from my lips as I climbed out of the backseat. I walked as fast as I could with my legs squeezed together. He gestured for me to stay close to him while keeping a hand on his sidearm and scanning the area with his flashlight. I had no problem following his directions. I’d been running through scenarios in the car in between position changes and I worried that someone might still be lurking around. I’d seen three guys, someone must have taken his car, but that didn’t mean there weren’t others.
The CHP officer entered the restroom before me, this time with his weapon drawn. He checked all of the stalls while I looked around nervously and did a pee-pee dance.
“All clear,” he called out, and I sprinted to the first stall, slamming the door open. I yanked down my panties with one hand while locking the door with the other. I’d barely sat down when Old Faithful erupted. I couldn’t hold back my groan of relief.
“Ma’am, are you okay?”
Jesus, embarrassing much?
“I am now!”
I heard him chuckle. “I’ll just wait out here for you.”
“Thank you,” I said.Gawd. I was going to have to face him again. Thankfully it was dark and he wouldn’t see my humiliation. I peed for another hour, or five minutes, and then I washed up in the gross sinks. There were no paper towels and I smelled like gasoline. Ugh.
When I stepped out I could see two more cruisers had joined the party and there were several guys walking around with flashlights, looking for clues, I guessed. I saw two of the officers walk over to the two sleeping big rigs.
“He’s awake,” the CHP officer said. He looked at me to see what my reaction would be. If I were any other person I would really hate the scrutiny with which I was being treated.
“I’m glad. Can I see him?”
The officer shook his head. “I need to get your statement.”
“Of course.” I told him what I could and his demeanor changed a little.
“He’s very lucky you showed up. Where were you headed at this time of night anyway?”
“San Bernardino. Music festival. I hate the traffic trying to get out of the Bay Area on Fridays and I figured it would be cooler at night.”
“You don’t worry about traveling alone at night?”
“Hey, if it’s my time, it’s my time. Not much I can do about it. But I’m not careless or anything.”
He asked to see my ID, so we went back over to my car. The paramedics were still talking to my cop as I opened the driver’s door. He turned to look at me.
“Hey.” He smiled around his puffy lip. “I can’t thank you enough.” He tried to pull his arm free from the paramedic to take my hand.
My cheeks got hot. “I’m just glad I could help.”
He squeezed my hand with his monstrous paw and once again I was reminded of our size difference.
“Officer Graham, we need to take you in to get fixed up. Bakersfield is the closest hospital.”
My cop groaned. He looked up at me with a vulnerable expression.
“I really hate hospitals,” he said only for my ears.
I could totally relate. I’d spent a lot of time in the waiting rooms of various medical facilities and they gave me the heebie-jeebies. I hated for anyone to have to go, especially alone, even if he were some muscley cop. The paramedic went on with his spiel.
“Ma’am,” the CHP guy said. “Here’s your ID. I apologize for earlier—”
“No, it’s fine. How could you know? Maybe I was some psycho.”
He sized me up. “It did occur to me when I saw that bat. But thank you. Not many people would have intervened. You saved his life, and as a fellow officer, I thank you.” He reached out his hand to shake.
“It did occur to me when I saw that bat. But thank you. Not many people would have intervened. You saved his life and as a fellow officer, I thank you.” He reached out his hand to shake.
I read his nametag in the light. Sergeant Cavanaugh.
