Page 33 of Fear of Flames
Fletch shielded his eyes, seeing the Indiana State Police uniform. “Yes, sir. Is there a problem?” Fletch nodded toward the glove compartment.
Michelle’s hands trembled as she reached forward, wondering how Fletch was going to get out of this. “It’s dark.” She fumbled with the papers within.
Fletch hit the dome light.
To Michelle’s amazement, the registration had the name Jason Martin. With wide eyes, she handed it to Fletch. He’d removed an ID from his wallet and handed them both to the officer.
“Looks like you’re a ways from home.”
Fletch nodded. “Visiting folks in Champaign. We got an early start.”
What state was the license plate? Michelle couldn’t recall if she’d even looked at it.
“Miss?” The flashlight’s beam was on Michelle. “What’s your name?”
Shit. She tried to remember.
“Miss, are you with this man of your own free will?”
She feigned a laugh. “He’s my brother and sometimes…but yeah, I’m here willingly. My name is Mindy, Mindy Martin.”
The deputy studied Michelle for a moment. “You look familiar. Let me see your ID.”
“You see, Officer, I don’t have it with me. That’s what Jason’s upset about. I left my purse at home…” She was a fictional writer. She could do this. “If he wouldn’t have insisted we leave so early…I’ve wanted to turn around, but Jason said it was a waste of time. You see, our grandfather is in the hospital.”
“What hospital?”
“He’s in Carle Foundation in Urbana,” Fletch replied. “As for the purse, Mindy would forget her head if it wasn’t attached.”
The trooper shook his head and handed Fletch back the fake ID and registration. “Listen, I pulled you over because your left rear tire looks low. Stop at the next exit and check it out. Don’t want you to have an accident out here.” He shone the beam back on Michelle.
She lifted her hand over her eyes.
“You sure you’re okay?” the trooper asked.
Chapter
Sixteen
Michelle couldn’t think too much about the trooper’s question. If she did, she’d scream that she wasn’t okay, but that wasn’t what she needed to say. Taking a deep breath, she replied, “Just upset about our grandpa and my purse.”
Again, the trooper nodded. “Can’t shake that I’ve seen you or your picture. You’re not a runaway?”
Michelle scoffed. “I guess I have one of those faces. Redheads all look alike.” She feigned a smile. “I’m not a runaway. I’m almost thirty.”
He waved his hand. “My shift’s about over. Move along and we’ll call it a day.”
“Thank you, Officer,” Fletch said. He waited a moment before rolling up the window. In the rearview mirror, he watched until the state trooper got into his car and turned off the overhead red and blue lights before he started the car. “Shit, Shelly,” he said in a low growl as he pulled the car back onto the country road. “Less is fucking more. Our grandfather is in the hospital? I was half expecting you to go into his diagnosis. Will Grandpa make it?”
“Well, he’s had heart issues for years. Grandma’s cooking has about done him in. High fat and cholesterol. We’ve been telling them for years to eat oatmeal instead of fried eggs and bacon every morning. And now, they have to do a bypass procedure after that incident a few days ago.” She laid her hand on her chest. “Thank goodness he listened to Grandma and went to the doctor.” She smiled. “How did you come up with the name of a hospital?”
Despite his stress, Fletch laughed. It was a full-force belly laugh. “When you lie, you need to remember your lie. The hospital is real.”
“I make up stories for a living. Although, I almost forgot my name.”
He nodded. “I was about to say it.”
“Do I have a fake ID too?”
