Chapter 37 - The Ghost on Route 9
The storm cleared just before dawn, leaving the road slick with black ice beneath a canopy of gray, bruised clouds.
Kowalski’s phone rang inside the command cruiser parked in my driveway. He answered it on speaker, Marcus and I standing outside the driver's side window with steam rising from our breath.
"Kowalski," the voice crackled through the radio. "Highway Patrol Unit 4. We’ve got an eye on the suspect vehicle from the APB. Blue Ford Escape, license plate matching the rental registered to Tori Henderson’s sister."
"Where is she?" Kowalski demanded.
"Heading eastbound on Route 9, approaching the toll plaza near the state line. She's driving erratically, speeds exceeding eighty miles per hour. We’re moving in to execute a rolling roadblock before she hits the bridge."
"Don't let her cross that state line," Marcus commanded into the mic. "She’s facing federal warrants now. Take her down clean."
Caleb walked out onto the porch, wearing one of his father’s old heavy winter coats over his bandaged arm. He stood beside me, listening to the static hiss of the radio.
"Mom," he said quietly. His voice was different now. The whiny, indecisive tone that had defined his thirties had been burned away by the events of the past twelve hours. "I'm going with them."
"No, you aren't," I told him, looking him in the eye. "Your place is upstairs with your children. When they wake up, they don't need to hear about police chases or warrants. They need to see their father sitting at the kitchen table, making pancakes, telling them that the bad dream is over."
Caleb's eyes filled with tears, but he nodded. "I let her treat you like dirt, Mom. When she dumped the kids here to fly to Japan... I told myself she was just stressed. I told myself it was normal."
"It was never normal, Caleb," I said gently, placing a hand on his good shoulder. "It was abuse. And you survived it. Now you have to be the parent Arthur was to you."
The radio erupted with the sharp, crackling voice of the state trooper.
"Suspect vehicle has spiked! Repeat, spike strips deployed at Mile Marker 14! The Escape is in the ditch! Suspect is attempting to flee on foot!"
A beat of agonized silence followed, filled only with the rushing static of the cruiser's radio.
"Suspect in custody," the trooper announced moments later, out of breath. "No injuries. Suspect is resisting, screaming obscenities... but we have her in cuffs."
Caleb let out a long, shuddering breath, his head hanging low toward the frost-covered gravel.
"It’s over," he whispered.
May you like
"No," I replied, looking toward the horizon where the first sliver of golden sunlight was breaking through the gray clouds. "Now the rebuilding begins."
***
