Survivor: 1 Read Online Free PDF

him. "Everything will be okay.
When we get to the police station, I'll call contact the
District Attorney of Ventura County. We'll get this taken
care of."
    Brad felt a lump in his throat; he felt like crying, but
not out.of fear. He felt a sudden outpouring of blinding,
white-hot rage. "Call Billy, too." William Greckd was a friend of Brad's family and a criminal defense lawyer in
Orange County. He was a brilliant, if annoying, criminal
defense attorney. He was brilliant because he had a
knack for getting some of the most repugnant people off
with little more than a slap on the wrist. He was annoying
because he was an alcoholic, one who was a pain in the
ass to be around when he drank.

    "I want to kill that fucking sonofabitch," Lisa said, her
voice trembling. Tears appeared at the corner of her
eyes, but her voice carried a tone of anger and loss of
their weekend together being suddenly destroyed.
    "Just be calm," Brad said. "We don't need you in jail
this weekend, too. I need you to be calm to get us out of
this, okay?"
    "1 love you," Lisa said. She kissed him quickly, and then
the sound of approaching footsteps caused them both to
look up as twin shadows fell across them.
    The man standing next to the officer was of medium
height, but overweight with a huge belly. He had sandy
hair that was balding at the top and a scruffy, sandy
beard. He was wearing a T-shirt with the word Hawaii on
it in a tropical design, and a pair of faded blue jeans and
white tennis shoes. He was wearing sunglasses. He
grinned wide.
    The officer looked at the driver of the van, then nodded down at Brad. "Okay, you can go ahead."
    The man took a step forward, grinning at Brad. "I'm
placing you under citizen's arrest for reckless driving, asshole. That'll teach you to fucking pull in front of people
on the highway."
    Lisa shot to her feet. "This man is lying, Officer. He's
been harassing us ever since we pulled out of the last rest
stop outside of Ventura. He's been tailgating us and-"
    "1 don't want to hear it: the cop said. He reached down and pulled Brad to his feet, his hard callused fingers digging into the flesh of Brad's upper right arm.
"And I ain't letting you make a cross-complaint, because
this gentleman witnessed you make several felony driving violations. Your only recourse is in court when your
husband goes up for trial. If the case is dismissed or he's
found not guilty, then you can seek civil recourse
against Mr. Smith, here."

    Brad glared at the man the officer referred to as Mr.
Smith, who smiled back at him. That smile seemed to say
I got you, you stupid luck. Teach you to fuck with me.
    "I hope you have deep pockets, Mr. Smith," Lisa said,
nearly spitting the words out. "You've picked the wrong
people to fuck with; my husband and I are both lawyers,
and when this is over we are going to sue you so fucking
bad you won't be able to find a shopping cart to live in!"
    Mr. Smith smiled at her. "My apologies for being a concerned motorist, ma'am." He turned to the officer. "Do I
need to do anything else, Officer?"
    "You need to follow me to the station to fill out some
paperwork," the officer said. He began to lead Brad toward the patrol car. To Lisa: "Lawyers, huh? Looks like
you'll be needing one yourselves, ma'am."
    "I plan on having a word with your captain, too," Lisa
said.
    "Whatever." The cop opened the back passenger-side
door of his cruiser and Brad slid inside. "Watch your
head," the officer said.
    Brad looked up at Lisa. "Call Billy, honey."
    "I'll follow you to the police station," Lisa said. The officer slammed the door.
    "Okay," the officer said, turning to Lisa. His face was
expressionless, his features stony. "Let's get this show on
the road."

     

Three
    The Days Inn off the Interstate had vacancies. Lisa Miller
was sitting on the lumpy queen-sized mattress in her
room, her suitcase opened, phone book out. The curtains were drawn, the rays of the setting sun bleeding