Chapter One

The Traffic Stop

Jessica swore and moved her sandaled foot from accelerator to brake. The telltale blue and white flashing lights made her squint as they dominated her rear view mirror. She was already running late. This was going to set her even further behind. She paused to fix her hair a little in the mirror and practice her most innocent expression as her tires rolled to a stop on the shoulder of the road. She saw the cruiser come to a halt behind her, and watched its door open as she put her car into park and turned off the engine. A tall officer, dressed in the distinctive uniform of the highway patrol, stepped from the car and approached the driver’s door. She rolled down the window as he reached her.

“License and registration, ma’am.” He spoke brusquely, and she hastened to gather them from the glove box and her purse.

“Here you go, sir.” She smiled up at him as she handed him the requested documents, her eyes wide and innocent as she tucked a strand of blond hair back behind her ear.  

“Do you know why I pulled you over?”  the officer asked, his cold gray eyes meeting hers unblinkingly.

“I guess I was speeding?”

“You guess right.”

“I’m sorry,” she pouted slightly as she spoke, trying her best to get herself out of yet another ticket that her father would not want to pay. “I’m just on my way to meet some friends for my birthday, and I was a little excited.”

“I see.  Turning nineteen today it says here.” The officer’s stony features revealed the small hint of a smile. “Any big plans?”

“Oh, not much, really,” she smiled up at him. “My dad rented out the hall at the Sheraton for me and some friends.”

“Oh, right,” the officer’s eyes narrowed a bit in recognition. “You’re Jessica Miller; the mayor’s daughter.”

“Yeah, that’s me,” she responded, still smiling, and hoping that this last piece of information would get her off the hook.

“License says you’re 5’6” and 108 pounds,” he read from the card, and then his eyes glanced down over her body as she sat in the car. “Is that accurate?”

“Yes,” she answered, her smile fading slightly. There was something about the way that he asked the question that felt wrong, creepy. “Well, I’m actually just under 5’6”, but I’m always within a couple pounds of 110.”

“Anyone ever tell you that you look a little like, what’s her name,” he narrowed his eyes as he spoke, “the girl from Sin City.”

“Jessica Alba?” she offered helpfully.

“That’s her,” he spoke with a smile, “anyone ever tell you that?”

“A couple times,” she answered, matching his smile, “but I think that’s just because I stole her smile and her hair.”

“Well, you wait right here, Ms. Alba, and I’ll get you on your way just as fast as I can.” He gave her a wink as he turned and walked back to his waiting cruiser.

As she watched him go in the side mirror, Jessica gave herself about fifty-fifty odds of getting away without a ticket. She’d have preferred that he just let her go with a verbal warning, but there was still a chance that he would return with nothing more stern than a written one. Unfortunately, going back to his car probably meant that he was going to pull her driving record and see her history of tickets, which did nothing to help her chances.  After a seeming eternity, the cruiser door opened again and the officer returned to her open window.

“Ms. Miller, please step out of the car.” His voice was stern, and she saw that his hand hovered close to his holstered pistol when she looked up in surprise.

“Wh-what?” she stammered, “why?”

“Place your hands on the steering wheel,” he ordered, and she quickly obeyed, grabbing it at ten and two.&