Jon

Jon gripped the wheel, eyes on the rearview mirror. A bead of sweat rolled down the center of his back and slipped into the crack of his ass.

“What’s he doing?” Gail asked.

“I don’t know,” Jon said. The cop had been sitting in his car with the lights flashing for almost fifteen minutes. “Running the plates, maybe?”

“Why’s he running the plates?”

“I don’t know, Gail,” Jon snapped. And then, more gently, “It’s probably standard procedure.”

Jon hoped it was standard procedure. Surely the cops hadn’t been notified yet. Surely there was no APB, no nationwide alert, no manhunt. Not yet. He was expecting a week of confusion and inaction. Counting on it, really. Finally, the cop got out of the car and put on his trooper hat. He walked to the driver’s side, his hand on his gun. Also, standard procedure, Jon hoped. He rolled down the window.

“Hello, Officer.”

The cop bent warily. His hair was cropped tight. His eyes were hidden behind mirrored sunglasses that reflected Jon’s own nervous face. “Mr. Hendricks?”

Hendricks? “No. No, sir. Reynolds. Allen Reynolds.”

The trooper peered into the back of the car at Gail and Maya. “Registration for your plates says Wayne Hendricks.”

“Really?” Jon said. “We just bought the car yesterday. Guy who owned the lot was named Wayne.”

“Usually doesn’t work that way.”

“I wouldn’t think so,” Jon said. “Why would he put the plates in his own name?”

The cop looked to the back seat again, and then back at Jon. “Beats me.” A smile finally flickered. “Illinois is a strange place.”

Jon laughed, but it sounded false even to him. “Car died just before you pulled up. Maybe Wayne can keep it in his name.”

The cop’s smile broadened. “There’s a couple of shops up in Fergus Falls.”

“I already called one of them. They’re sending a tow truck.”

The cop checked his watch. “I’ll give you folks a ride into town.”

Jon looked up at the sunglasses but found only his own reflection. “Thank you, but that’s really not necessary. They should be here shortly.”

Maya started to cry again.

“They won’t have room for all three of you. I’m headed that way anyway.”

“We should be fine.” Jon didn’t care if he had to ride on the back of the tow truck, in the trunk of the Camry if necessary. “Thank you, though.”

The cop cocked his head and looked into the back again. “How old’s that baby?”

Why was that relevant? Jon considered adding a week or two, but the truth came out instead. “Seven days.”

Another pause as the cop looked through the back window. “I can’t leave a newborn on the side of the road. My wife would kill me.”

Jon studied the glasses, looking for a seam, a way to wriggle free, but there was none. He nodded and climbed out of the car. They loaded the car seat and the diaper bag into the back seat of the patrol car. Gail, stone-faced, got into the back with Maya and strapped her in. Jon climbed into the front with his backpack.

“I’m Lathan,” the cop said after he settled into his seat and radioed his plans to the dispatcher. “Lathan Jennings.”

“I really appreciate this, Officer.”

“Not a problem.” After he pulled onto the highway and gained speed, he glanced in the rearview mirror at Gail. “Mrs. Reynolds, what’s your name?”

Gail didn’t respond at first. Jon looked back through the metal grate at Gail, who was staring out the window. He wasn’t sure whether she didn’t hear the question or couldn’t remember her new name. He considered answering for her, but Lathan repeated his question more loudly.

“Kim,” Gail finally said.

“And the baby?”

“Emma,” Jon blurted at the same time that Gail said, “Maya.” Shit. He hadn’t yet told Gail Maya’s new name.

“Whoa.” Lathan looked in the mirror again. “There two babies back there?”

“Emma’s her first name, and Maya’s her middle name,” Jon said quickly. “We’re still arguing about which to use.”

Lathan nodded, looking unconvinced. “I been married for fourteen years and have two kids.” He cast a look at Jon, smiled a tight smile. “I highly recommend you lose that argument.”

They drove in silence. Jon hugged his backpack, tried to think of something to say, but Lathan beat him to it. “Where you folks headed?”

“Grand Forks,” Jon said quickly, before Gail had a chance to say Winnipeg.

“Grandparents?”

“Huh?”

“You visiting the grandparents?”

“Oh. Yeah. Right.”

“Where in Grand Forks?”

Jon squeezed the backpack. “Northwest side,” he murmured.

“Really? I grew up near there. What neighborhood?”

Shit. “I’m not sure,” he said, and looked out the window. “I left the address in the car.”

Long pause. “Your parents or Kim’s?” Jennings’s voice had changed, the friendliness had fallen away. He now sounded a bit like a cop interrogating a suspect.

“Mine,” Jon said. He guessed at the next question. “They just moved there.”

“North Dakota instead of Florida?”

“My dad took a new job.”

“Who’s he work for?” Lathan asked immediately.

Jon’s mind scrambled for an answer specific enough that it wouldn’t spawn more questions, but vague enough that he wouldn’t be caught in a lie. “State Farm.”

They drove the next several miles in silence. Jennings alternated his attention between the road and Jon and Gail in the mirror. Jon couldn’t help but get the feeling that he was tallying up the inconsistencies in the story, memorizing their faces, crafting his next question. If Jennings asked for his license, Jon would tell him he lost his wallet. If he asked for Jon’s parents’ names, he’d say Carol and Mark Reynolds. If he asked for their phone number, he’d give him one of the burner numbers that he’d memorized. The trooper opened his mouth to start in again when Gail spoke.

“How old are your children?” she asked.

“Ten and twelve.”

“Those are fun ages. Boys? Girls?”

“One of each.”

“They play sports?”

For the next twenty minutes, Gail interrogated Jennings, who dutifully answered her questions about wrestling and soccer and braces and ballet. By the time they arrived at Advanced Repair, he and Gail had agreed that the offside rule was incomprehensible, dance recital costumes cost too much, and orthodontics was a racket. After they unloaded the baby gear into the shop’s dingy waiting room, Gail took Maya to the bathroom to change her diaper. Jon shook Jennings’s hand and thanked him again. Jennings took his sunglasses off and appraised Jon with cold gray eyes. “Allen Hendricks, right?”

Jon shook his head. “Reynolds.”

“Right.” He took out his notebook. “Why don’t you give me your phone number, Mr. Reynolds? I’d like to check in with you later. Make sure everything turns out all right.” He nodded to the restroom. “You know. With the baby and all.”