CHAPTER 1

I’ve always admired the efficiency of the Highway Patrol. They know just where to be when you think it’s safe to blaze on down the freeway.

The officer who stopped me was younger, female, and clearly very well indoctrinated to the effective ways to approach a vehicle with her safety in mind. I could easily imagine exactly where her mind was as she came around the passenger side. I lowered the window and kept my hands visible.

“Good evening, sir.”

“Good evening, officer.”

“Could I see your license and registration, please?”

I fished in the glove box for the registration and insurance card, handing them to her.

“Your license, sir?”

“It’s in my wallet.”

“And where is your wallet?”

“In the briefcase.” I pointed to the worn leather bag I’d been hauling around for years and years.

“Would you like to take it out, please?” I could hear her voice wavering a little.

“I’d rather not. It’s in there with my gun and badge.” I heard her unsnap the holster where her right hand was resting.  She called for back-up.

“And what does the badge say?”

“It says ‘Deputy Sheriff, Retired.’” She didn’t relax after I told her this. “Feel free to have a look.”

“I will, in just a minute.”

I watched the other Crown Vic pull up behind us, and when the other officer was in position, she took the briefcase out of the seat slowly and retired to the hood of her car. As I watched her through the mirror, she examined my wallet, badge, and the Sig P230 I kept as a back-up piece when I was on patrol. She made a couple of radio calls, and then brought my briefcase back to the car.

“Sorry for the wait, Deputy Higgs, but you know the drill.” She smiled. “A little slower next time, huh?”

I smiled back. “Yes, m’am. Be safe out there.”

“I will.”

I pulled back into traffic and continued my trip to work.