Strawberries

They settled into an easy rhythm and conversation that bounced around to various topics. When Junior started to ask Joey about her trucking experience she deftly changed topics, avoiding the subject. Not that she was ashamed of being an impostor; quite the opposite, she thought she was doing quite well for having about two hours experience. But she didn't want somebody listening in to snitch her out. She decided if she ever sat down with him face to face she would tell him the truth. If not, she was sure he would hear it from Ricky some day.

Wolfman mentioned he was a NASCAR fan, and although he only watched it on TV, he was a regular visitor to his local dirt track in Alabama. Joey took the opportunity to keep the conversation on a safe topic. They were impressed with her expertise on the subject and got a kick out of her being dubbed Joey the rabbit at one time. They were even more impressed that she had met Kevin Harvick, from nearby Bakersfield at the track one Saturday night.

The road sign declared Oklahoma City to be twenty miles away. Joey remembered Ricky's instructions, but things were different now. She had figured out the truck pretty well and she was in good company. Besides, how bad could it be on an early Sunday morning.

"Hey, Junior, how about jumping up here and lead us through town." Joey asked. She remembered looking at OKC on the atlas and remembered seeing quite a few interchanges, and wasn't sure on the rules regarding bypasses and such.

"Sure thing sweetie." he replied as he blipped the throttle and made the pass.

Wolfman dropped south on I-35, and T600 went north. They all said their farewells as Junior weaved through the city with Joey hot on his tail.

As they continued east they continued to hear that the Arkansas scales were closed. Joey decided to keep driving, after learning there were no more scales after that set until almost Memphis. She was having too much fun to stop. Besides, she wanted Ricky well rested.

 

The eastern half of Oklahoma proved to be somewhat different than the western half. Joey didn't expect the hills. Not as severe as Tehachapi, Tiger Mountain was still impressive. Even weighing nearly 80,000 pounds, dropping one gear was sufficent to handily top the grade, pulling away from Junior by a substantial margin.

"Not bad for a girl." he said good naturedly.

"Beginners luck." she laughed.

Ricky was half awake by now and grinned when he felt the clutchless shift. He rolled back over, knowing he was in good hands.

Feeling the enormous weight push her down the mountain, she knew there was something she was supposed to do now. What switch did he flip in New Mexico? she thought. Aha! There it is. Flipping eng brk did the trick. ####, that sounds wicked. Almost asleep, Ricky grinned again.

The Arkansas scales were indeed closed. Joey was impressed with the greenery of the rolling hills passing through the southern edge of the Ozarks. Realizing she was past due for a rest stop, in more ways than one, she asked Junior where the next decent place was to stop.

"If you can hang on for just a bit, Russellville should have just whatever you need. A truckstop on either side of the interstate." Junior answered.

As they approached the exit a half hour later, Junior bid her farewell. "Be cool on your stool Joey. It was a pleasure meeting you. I would stop, but I'm meeting up with somebody in Little Rock and I don't like making her wait. Tell Mustang to give me a call later on."

"I'll do it Junior. Thanks for all the help. Hope to meet again." She answered as she wheeled into the Flyin J, working her way to the remote northeast corner of the lot, for more than one reason. First of all, she planned on impressing Ricky by backing into a spot and she wanted all the room available. She often drove the race car hauler which consisted of a duelie pickup and a thirty foot trailer. How much harder can it be. Not much, actually, aside from the extra length which seemed to require exponentially more space. There. Only had to pull up six times Joey thought, laughing at herself. Would have helped if my bladder wasn't about to burst.

She walked into the truckstop to relief herself and splash some cool water on her face. Then decided to run a brush through her hair. Stopping by the deli to get two cups of coffee, she headed back out to the truck. Ricky was sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing nothing but his jeans, when she climbed back in.

"Why bother putting anything on, country boy?" she asked slyly.

"Well I had to put something on to go out back to the open air outhouse. Good thing you parked out here on the back forty."

"Hey, don't make fun of my parking. I think I did pretty good for a beginner."

"Not making fun. You did great." he said, kissing her on the forehead.

She responded by kissing him on the mouth, gently at first, then becoming more aggressive. He allowed himself to be pushed back on the bed. She straddled his waist, kissing his chest and neck, under his chin, working her way back up to his mouth, letting her hair drape over him like a curtain.

"Don't give me that crap about having to be somewhere, country boy. Only six hundred miles to Atlanta. I done looked it up. We have plenty of time. As a matter of fact, we have all day."

Then her cell phone sounded again. She ignored it again.

"All that driving has got me crazy." She said as she took off her shirt.

"I know what you mean. Happens to me all the time."

 

Despite his intentions of the old slow and easy approach, any such plans went out the window within seconds. The hunger that had been building for over twenty-four hours exploded in a single touch. He felt like a starving man who had just been turned loose on a buffet. Apparently Joey shared his sentiment, for her lustful appetite was just as voracious as his. After the initial explosion, they settled into an easy rhythm, measured but intense.

"That was awesome." Ricky said, staring at the ceiling.

"I bet you say that to all the girls."

"Actually, I have never said it. And believe me, there aren't that many."

"Really?"

"Really."

"I can't move."

"That's ok. I can give you the day off. You drove all night."

"I want to pull my weight."

"You brought us coffee."

"Which is cold now."

"Let's go in for breakfast. They have more coffee inside."

"I was serious when I said I can't move."

"I don't believe you." Ricky said as he began getting dressed. Lacking the energy to consider a shower at the moment, he dug up a fresh T-shirt, undies and socks. He figured they could stop over in Tallapoosa, Georgia, near the Alabama line and get all spiffied up. Only fifty miles west of Atlanta, it would be a good place to hang out until it got close to his appointment time. Having lost interest in coffee for the time being, he pulled a cold soda from the fridge and sat down to tie his shoes. He turned to offer Joey some of the beverage and discovered she was fast asleep.

Ricky decided to cruise. He didn't want to eat alone for some reason, deciding to wait until Joey woke up and they could eat together. And shower together. He knew a little place over in Mississippi that had some good catfish and hushpuppies. And peach cobbler. Sounds like a plan.

Joey came back to life some where around Forest City, Arkansas, thanks in part to a choppy stretch of highway. As luck would have it, a rest area was a mile away.

"Ready to jump my bones already?" she said as he hit the blinker and the Jake brake.

"Not a bad idea, but I figured you might need to visit the little girls room."

"Yeah, that's not a bad idea either." she said as she pulled her cell phone from her bag. Two missed calls. Both from a Fresno area code, but an unfamiliar number. She would check it out after they got back out to the truck.

 

As if on cue, Joey's phone went off as they climbed back in the truck after a visit to the service plaza.

"Hello?" Joey answered cautiously.

"Ah, is this MS Ruiz?" Harry Benson asked.

"Who is this, please?"

"Forgive me. This is Detective Harry Benson from the Fresno Police Department."

"What can I do for you Detective? And how did you get my number?"

"Just wanted to have a little chat is all"

"How did you get my number?" Joey repeated.

"I'm a detective, remember, but that's not really important."

Maybe not to you. Joey thought. Cops love to ask questions, but hate answering them.

"Where were you last wednesday?"

"What happened Wednesday?" Joey asked in return, knowing he wouldn't tell her.

"Hopefully nothing that concerns you, but I have to know. You're not being suspected of anything. I'm just trying to figure some things out."

"I was at home."

"At home? You don't work or go to school?"

"I was packing for a trip."

"Ah. Can anybody confirm this?"

"Yes, my father."

Harry knew this. He had interviewed Alberto just minutes ago. In fact, Alberto was attempting to call her now. Joey saw the incoming call light blinking but ignored it, thinking it was probably Manuel.

"And where are you taking a trip to? Something you've been planning a while or just spur of the moment?"

"My father didn't tell you?"

Answering another question with a question, which annoyed Harry, but he kept his tone light. "No he didn't. Maybe he was concerned with your privacy, and I respect that. But I hope he wasn't trying to cover for something you did."

What the hell is he talking about?
"I assure you I have done nothing that needs to be covered for." still not answering his question.

"What kind of car do you own, MS Ruiz?"

"You can call me Joey, and I don't own a car."

"Hmm, well you were seen getting out of one in Arizona early yeaterday." Harry said, bluffing. Her identity had never been confirmed. Even after seeing the photo of her, the witness maintained he never got a look at her face.

"I don't care what somebody thinks they saw, but I don't own a car." Joey said carefully.

"Have you driven a car recently, like yesterday?" Harry rephrased.

Joey felt herself getting trapped and had the sudden urge to speak with an attorney. "Look detective, I was taught to cooperate with the police, but until you tell me what is going on and quit being so mysterious, I'm not sure I can help you."

"Ok, I will be blunt, Joey. We have a stolen car with your prints all over it." Harry knew in his heart that Manuel stole the car, based on testimony from Diaz, but he was trying to shake her up.

"I didn't steal any car, detective."

Ignoring her, Harry continued. "And we have reason to believe that car was used as the getaway vehicle in an armed robbery in which some innocent people died. And until you come clean with me, I am considering you complicit in this matter."

Silence as Joey tried to absorb what Harry just said. Her first thought was Manuel.

Harry hoped he hadn't pushed too hard. He was 90 percent sure she was innocent of anything but unknowingly driving a hot car. But he wanted her to come in. She could be a piece of the puzzle.

 

Silence. She hung up. #### it! Harry swore. Pushed too hard.

"I got a good fix, anyway, Harry." said his technician, Troy, who was seated beside him. "Out in eastern Arkansas, getting close to Memphis."

The cell phone could be tracked regardless if it was being used or not, in most cases. But certain older models, this one included, seemed to give a more accurate signal while in use.

"She obviously got another ride. A bus maybe?" Harry wondered.

"I don't think so." Troy answered. "She has been covering eight to ten hours at a clip. Busses don't do that, generally. Too many stops. And most cars can't travel that far without stopping for gas."

"So what does that leave?" Harry asked, although he already knew the answer.

"And our star witness doesn't remember anything but a shiny truck with a lot of chrome and lights. Too busy looking at tail to notice anything else."
*
After hanging up on Harry, Joey immediately called her father.

"Thank God you called honey. Are you ok?" Alberto answered.

"Yes, papa, I'm ok. I'm in good hands."

"Ssshh, that's all I need to know. Don't say too much on here."

Alberto had his own experience with cops. Things he had never told Joey. He always wanted her to be proud of him. Many years ago, when he was a teenager in Los Angeles. He had no resentments, for he brought his problems on himself, but he remembered how they operated when they wanted information. How they would twist things to make people say things. And some cops weren't necessarily after the truth. They were after whatever would close the case.

"What did you tell that cop?" Joey asked.

"I told him you just packed up and left without telling me where. I said we had been fighting."

That saddened Joey to hear that, even though it wasn't true. She hated to think that was even possible. Her father was her best friend. Especially since the death of her mother nine years ago, when she was only twelve.

"What the heck is going on, Papa?"

"Something bad happened the day you left. I didn't hear about it until the next day. Word on the street is Manny could be involved and they are looking for a girl that fits your general description. The less you know the better. Just keep moving baby. Maybe they will catch a break without dragging you in. Remember, I love you. Now get rid of that phone."

"I will. I love you papa." Joey clicked the end button with tears in her eyes.

 

Joey recapped her conversations with Harry and her father, clearly upset.

"Your pops is right. Gotta ditch the phone. If they suspect Manuel of the crime, they are most likely tracking his calls, which led them to you. They figured out your name and went to your house. Now they are tracking you."

"Oh God, this is horrible." she said, fresh tears forming. "And I've drug my pops and you into this mess."

"You haven't done no such a thing, babygirl." Ricky said, pulling her close, resting his chin on top of her head. "Besides, I have a plan. Nothing long term, but it will buy us some time. The longer you stay out of sight, the more time they have to find out what really happened."

Getting back on the interstate, Ricky had a fuel stop in mind just a few exits away. A junky looking place, but they sold cheap fuel. He would most likely find who he was looking for there.

Pulling into the driveway, he saw potential help right away. "Piedmont Refrigerated Express" on the side of two trucks, side by side, getting fuel. Ricky pulled in line behind one of them. After getting out, closer inspection revealed the reefer units were off, which meant they were hauling dry freight. Which meant they were heading west. Perfect.

"Hey, driver, you want to hurry up and move that piece of junk? Some of us have to work for a living." Ricky yelled at the unsuspecting driver.

The driver spun around angrily, then broke out in a big smile. "Mustang! What brings you out slummin? Couldn't find any ###### in West Memphis?"

"Something like that. You been doing alright, Slim?"

"Be doing much better when you let me drive that high dollar Petercar of yours so I can quit these scumbags."

"I hear ya brother, maybe one day. Listen, I want to ask a huge favor of you."

"Name it, brother." Slim said, without hesitation.

"You know that long bridge over in Oklahoma right before you get to the Muskogee Turnpike?" Ricky asked.

"Yeah. Ain't that the one that caved in a few years back and that truck went in the water?"

"Exactly. That guy was headed to Spokane, Washington with a load of garden hoses, but that's not important now. Anyway, when you get to the bridge, make sure you're in the left lane."

"Why is that, Mustang?"

"So you can pitch this #### thing overboard." he said, handing Joey's cell phone over. "And whatever you do, if it rings, please don't answer it. Very important to remember that part."

"Gotcha, Mustang. I can handle it."

"I appreciate it, brother. I owe you a big one." Ricky said, shaking hands with the driver.

As he walked back to his rig, Slim called out to him. "Hey, Mustang!"

"What's up Slim?" Ricky asked, turning around.

"What you said about the garden hoses. Is that true?"

"#### right it is. I wouldn't lie about something like that."

 

Two hours later Troy Watkins walked into Harry Benson's office. "You're not going to believe this, boss." he said.

"What's up Troy?" Harry asked.

"Your talk with the girl may have done some good. Looks like she is heading back this way."

"For real? Sure it's not a fluke?"

"That's why I waited, to be sure before I said anything to you. Looks like due west right back across I-40. Been nearly a hundred and fifty miles. Be back in Oklahoma soon at this rate. I'd pull the BOLO* at the West Memphis Inspection Station if I were you. Send them boys on too many wild goose chases, they will be reluctant to help us in the future."

"I agree. Got another break today. Our boy Manuel led us straight to one of his compadres. He's scared. They #### near got in a fistfight in the front yard. The guy was screaming 'we can't be seen together'. I still want to talk to this Alberto again, the father. He's holding something back. I can feel it."

"He's a father, Harry. You would do the same thing."

"Yeah, I know. But until I find another female that fits the bill, I gotta keep looking at her. It's too hinky for her to just take off cross country in a stolen car the day of the robbery. That stretches the boundries of coincidence. Just keep a listen on Alberto's phone. If she's coming home, she may call him."


*BOLO is copspeak for a "Be on lookout for" alert

 

Don't know what made me think about that bridge collapse. A barge hit it, taking out 600 feet of roadway.
That was in '02. I was running across there real regular back then going to northern Cal.
The truck driver was just leaving out fresh on a Sunday morning (from Ft Smith, I think).
The guys down below in the fishing boat started shooting flares up to try to stop any more cars from running off into mid air.

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