Chapter 11

The penny drops. The trooper shifts the focus of the interview. “Do you have any idea how much the fine is if I clock you going over ninety-five?”

“Was I going over ninety-five?” My surprise is apparent. I didn’t know this old bucket had it in him.

“If I answer that, I’ll have to cite you,” he says. “And you can believe it’s a ticket that’ll wreck your Christmas. Since you’re only going to Green River—and can, I assume, wait that hour and a half before you enjoy each other’s company—” George gags out another poorly stifled laugh. The trooper keeps talking. “I’m going to let you go with a warning. A serious warning, son. There was nothing safe about what you were doing, and I bet if you die out here on the highway, that’ll wreck some Christmases, too.”

“Yes sir.”