Think Sharon and your uncle Nick are going to get married? Jan asked, leaning forward.
Sharon Dupre, the baker of the divine cookies, had been seeing Nick for almost a year now. They were definitely a hot item.
Maybe. Who knows, Ashley replied, watching the clock and the road. Nick is such a dyed-in-the-wool bachelor. He loves his fishing and his restaurant, and I guess, as long as Sharon tolerates his habits, it could happen.
Well, Nick is going to have to tolerate Sharons weird real estate hours, Karen said.
True, Ashley agreed. He seems to deal with it all okay. Nick is a live-and-let-live guy. She knew that well, having grown up with her uncle. She was often sad to realize that she barely remembered her parents. They had been killed in an automobile accident when she had been three. She adored Nick; he had filled the roles of both parents with love and tenderness, and there was nothing she wanted more for him than the laid-back happiness with which he had always lived. Whether that included marriage to Sharon or not was a decision he was going to have to make himself.
Hey, theres a great pair of pants in this ad, Jan said, sitting forward to show the magazine she was reading to Karen. Think theyd look good on someone with fat thighs?
They are great pants, Karen said.
Jan tapped her on the arm with the magazine in mock anger. Youre supposed to tell me that I dont have fat thighs, she informed her friend.
Sorry. You dont have fat thighs. And I think theyd be great on me, tooa little person with a bubble butt.
Great pants all around, Jan said.
Youre supposed to tell me I dont have a bubble butt.
Im jealous, considering Im all thighs and no butt, Jan said, then switched subjects abruptly. You should have joined the Coral Gables force, or even South Miami, rather than metro, Ashley. What were you thinking? Coral Gables has some really cute guys. And theyre nice.
Yeah, the metro guys can be assholes, Karen agreed.
Ashley arched a brow, meeting Karens gaze. You just think theyre assholes because you got a mega-ticket from one, she said. I wanted to be on the metro force. Miami-Dade County, also known as the Greater Miami area, was made up of more than two dozen small cities, villages and municipalities. Some had their own large forces, with departments dealing with everything from jaywalking to murder, while others depended on the metropolitan force, which covered the entire county, for their homicide and forensic divisions. She had always wanted to work where she could cover the full scope of the area where she had lived all her life. There are good officersand even cute ones on all the forces.
And you were whizzing down the highway when you got that ticket, Jan said. Oh, look, Ashley is bristling. When shes in her patrol car after graduation and needs to give out tickets, youll have to watch out. All shell need to do is park near your house and wait for you to leave the driveway at ninety.
I do not speed that badly, Karen protested. And lookAshley is speeding now!
Shes going two miles over the limit, Jan said. And watch it, or well wind up crawling the whole way to Orlando.
Even as Jan spoke, Ashley began to press on the brake.
See, Jan said.
No, no, theres something going on up there, Ashley said, frowning.
The cars ahead of her were suddenly squealing and braking. Behind her, two cars, in attempting to stop, nearly plowed into the median.
They were almost at the turnpike. The highway was five lanes each way here, with turnpike access just ahead, and the ramp for the east-west expressway also branching off. The early morning traffic, which had been so smooth, was suddenly a mess.
What the hell is going on? Ashley murmured. Creeping in line behind the cars directly ahead of her, she saw that two cars had apparently been involved in an accident. She was off duty and still just in the academy, but if there had been an accident and there were no other officers at the scene, by the book, she was obliged to stop until someone on duty could arrive. But just as the thought occurred to her, Karen, who had toyed with the idea of going into law instead of education, read her mind.
No, we dont need to stop. Theres already a cop car at the scenejust ahead. He must have just gotten there.
Whatever had caused the accident, they had missed it by no more than a few minutes. The lanes werent blocked off yet, which meant the officer really had just arrived. The drivers of the vehicles were both out of their cars. One was sitting on the median, a man with his face in his hands. The other, who had apparently struck the first, was standing by his car, just staring at the road.
The accident had occurred in the far left lane. Ashley was driving in the lane directly next to it. As she moved along, she looked to her left, noting gratefully that neither driver appeared to have been hurt.
But someone had.
As she crept along in her lane, she suddenly gasped.
There was a man on the highway. Sprawled in the lane, naked except for a pair of white briefs. He was facedown, head twisted to the side, apparently dead.
Shed gone through everything necessary to become a cop. Taken the tests and seen all the videos featuring the types of horrors a policeman was likely to be up against at some point in his career or hers. But the sight of the man sprawled on the highway, naked except for his underwear, was still shocking and terrible.
Oh, my God, Karen breathed at her side.
What? Jan demanded.
Ashleys hands were glued around the steering wheel as she fixed the entire scene in her mind. The immediate area first. The position of the two cars involved. The cop and the cop car that had just arrived. The body. Sprawled. Naked except for the white briefs. The head, twisted. The blood that seemed surreal against flesh and asphalt.
The cars, still veering off toward the median. And, across the median, cars slowing, braking, the screech of brakes. Far across the opposing lanes, someone standing, staring at all the traffic as if waiting for a light to change.
She moved past the body. It was still imprinted in her mind. As crystal clear and vivid as a photograph. The rest merging, blurring. The cars in the opposing lanes a kaleidoscope of color. The figure standing, watching the scene
Just someone. Faceless. Dressed inblack, she thought. Man? Woman? She didnt know. Part of what had happened? A friend of the man who had been struck?
What? What the hell is it? Jan demanded from the back seat.
A body. A body on the highway, Karen said, her voice faltering.
A body? Jan swung around.
They were past it now.
Maybe I should turn around, Ashley said.
The hell you should! The cop trying to deal with the situation and the traffic would be pissed as hell to have something else to deal with, Karen said. And she was right. There was already an officer on the scene. Traffic was knotting into serious snarls as it was. By the time she could safely reach an exit, turn around and get back to the scene, an ambulance would have arrived, and more on-duty officers, probably even those specializing in traffic accidents and fatalities, would be on hand.
Youve got to forget it, just forget it, Karen said sternly. Please, Ashley. How many vacations do we get together? And get serious, there are accidents every damn day down here. Fatal ones, too. Its sad but true. You are not on duty. Youre not even a full-fledged cop. And if you start taking every single event you witness to heart, youre going to be a lousy cop, because youll be too emotionally involved with each incident when youre required to be alert to everything.
What? Jan demanded.
Ashleys hands were glued around the steering wheel as she fixed the entire scene in her mind. The immediate area first. The position of the two cars involved. The cop and the cop car that had just arrived. The body. Sprawled. Naked except for the white briefs. The head, twisted. The blood that seemed surreal against flesh and asphalt.
The cars, still veering off toward the median. And, across the median, cars slowing, braking, the screech of brakes. Far across the opposing lanes, someone standing, staring at all the traffic as if waiting for a light to change.
She moved past the body. It was still imprinted in her mind. As crystal clear and vivid as a photograph. The rest merging, blurring. The cars in the opposing lanes a kaleidoscope of color. The figure standing, watching the scene
Just someone. Faceless. Dressed inblack, she thought. Man? Woman? She didnt know. Part of what had happened? A friend of the man who had been struck?
What? What the hell is it? Jan demanded from the back seat.
A body. A body on the highway, Karen said, her voice faltering.
A body? Jan swung around.
They were past it now.
Maybe I should turn around, Ashley said.
The hell you should! The cop trying to deal with the situation and the traffic would be pissed as hell to have something else to deal with, Karen said. And she was right. There was already an officer on the scene. Traffic was knotting into serious snarls as it was. By the time she could safely reach an exit, turn around and get back to the scene, an ambulance would have arrived, and more on-duty officers, probably even those specializing in traffic accidents and fatalities, would be on hand.
Youve got to forget it, just forget it, Karen said sternly. Please, Ashley. How many vacations do we get together? And get serious, there are accidents every damn day down here. Fatal ones, too. Its sad but true. You are not on duty. Youre not even a full-fledged cop. And if you start taking every single event you witness to heart, youre going to be a lousy cop, because youll be too emotionally involved with each incident when youre required to be alert to everything.
Karen was making a great deal of sense.
I didnt even see the body, Jan said.
Youre lucky, Karen countered, swallowing.
Ashley was glad that, despite her words, Karen had been equally affected by the sight.
There are accidents every single day, Karen repeated. People die, and theyre going to continue to die, she told Ashley sternly.
Ashley glanced at her quickly. They dont die naked except for their underwear, on the highway, every day, she countered.
Did he come from one of the cars? Jan asked.
Maybe, but how? Karen said.
Perhaps he was in one of the passenger seats and was thrown out when the accident occurred, Jan said.
He was riding around in his underwear? Ashley said.
Hey, this is South Florida. Spend a little more time at the clubs on South Beach, Jan said. He might have been riding around stark naked, who the hell knows?
I dont think he was in one of the cars, Ashley said, remembering the relative positions of the cars, and the body.
So he was walking across the highway in his underwear? Jan said.
Maybe there will be something on the news, Karen said, switching the radio channel from the popular rock frequency theyd had on to the twenty-four-hour news station. The commentator was giving a rundown of events in Washington, but then switched over to local traffic.
Theres been an accident on I-95, northbound, a pedestrian struck by oncoming traffic, a pleasant female voice said over the airwaves. Both left-hand lanes are now closed, so use caution and slow down while approaching the turnpike interchange. For all you folks traveling from north Dade and Broward on your way to work in the downtown Miami area, be on the alert for slowing traffic on the southbound side. The turnpike is still running smoothly to that point, but to the south, weve got an accident on the off ramp from the Palmetto to Miller Drive.
The traffic report ended, and then a different newscaster came on to give a report about boating conditions.
By then they had reached the entrance to the turnpike. Ashley threw her coins into the bucket at the toll booth and moved into traffic, aware that Karen was staring at her.
Were going to put it out of our minds and have a good time, Karen insisted firmly.
Ashley nodded. She tried to keep silent, then said, Its just too bizarre. What was a man doing running across the highway in his underwear?
He must have been doped up, Jan said from the back.
That must be it, Karen agreed. Why the hell else would you try to cross at least ten lanes of trafficdressed to the teeth or half-naked?
Ashley, when you go back to the academy Monday morning, Im sure youll be able to find someone who knows something about it, Jan said.
Yeah, youre right.
And until then, theres nothing you can do, Karen said.
Yes, there is, Ashley said.
Whats that?
Stop at the first rest station, buy a big cappuccino, a horrible, greasy breakfast sandwich and stop shaking, Ashley said.
All right, Im up for that, Jan said. Ill stick with regular coffee and these cookies, though.
They reached the service plaza less than thirty miles later, still subdued, but trying to rekindle the light mood that had been with them as theyd started out. While Ashley and Jan stood in line for coffee and food, Karen gathered brochures for Orlando and its multitude of tourist attractions. When they were finally seated, Jan pounced on the brochure for Arabian Knights. Ive never been there. I loved Medieval Times, though, and this place has horses, too.
And men, Karen said. But I thought we were going to go dancing? You know, to Pleasure Island or someplace like that.
One night dancing, one night watching gorgeous men on horseback, Jan said.
Ashley was barely listening. She had taken out a pencil and was sketching on her napkin.
A hand fell over hers, stopping the movement of her pencil mid-slide. She looked up and met Karens. Thats chillingtoo close to what we just saw, Karen said.
Jan drew the napkin from her and shuddered. What are we going to do, Ashley? Youve got to let it drop. She gazed down at the sketch again. Thank God I was busy looking at pants that would look good on people with fat thighs, she said, trying to draw a smile. Im haunted just by the picture.
You should have stayed in art school, Karen said. A drawing on a napkinand its just like the real thing. Please, Ashley
Ashley crumpled up the napkin. Sorry, she murmured guiltily. Her friends were right. There was nothing she could do about what had happened.
And she was destined to see much worse during her career as a cop.
You havent really given up on art, have you? Jan asked her. I mean, youre good. Really good. Ive never seen anyone who can sketch people so well.
Ill never give it up, Ashley said. I love to draw. Its just that
She likes the concept of a paycheck, Karen told Jan with a sigh.
You could have gotten a paycheck as an artist. I know it, Jan said.