Speed Trap
Mark Peters saw the flashing blue lights in his rearview mirror and stepped on the clutch to slow down his BMW. A glance at the speedometer showed the needle on the wrong side of 90. Jesus. I wasn’t going that fast, was I?
It was late afternoon, one of those gorgeous autumn days where the sun was still warm, the breeze faint and cool, and the trees just turning colors. There was no one on the highway but him—he had the radio cranked up, the windows rolled down, his sunglasses on and the seat back, nowhere to go and all the time in the world to get there.
And now I’ll be late.
Behind him, the police car wailed once. Even though he was alone on the road, Mark put on his turn signal, crossed the other two lanes, and slowed to a stop on the shoulder of the interstate. He’d never
