Chapter 30
Silas’s nervous eyes stared at the patrol car in the rearview. He asked Declan, “What do you want me to do?”
Declan clenched his teeth and looked back through the rear window. After a tense exhale, he asked, “Is he alone?”
“Looks that way.”
The cop chirped the siren.
“I guess pull over. See what he wants.”
Silas slowed and pulled to the shoulder, not that there was much of one.
Kyle kept going. I’m sure Luciano didn’t want any part of this.
After we came to a stop, the cop sat in his car for a moment, the tension growing.
The sun angled toward the horizon. It was getting late.
The patrolman finally lumbered out of the squad car and waddled to the window. With a bushy mustache and jet black hair, he smiled at Silas—the way a predator smiles at prey. “Buenas tardes. Documentos.”
Silas handed him a driver’s license. “We’re Americans.”
The officer looked at the licenses, then peered into the van. He sized us up. “Habla espanol?”
“Un poco,” Silas replied.
“My English is not so good, but I will try.”
“Thank you.”
“Registration?”
“Uh, I’m not sure,” Silas said as he reached for the glove box. He flipped it open and rummaged through the junk. There were a few papers, but Silas didn’t find the registration. He looked at the officer, frowned, and shook his head. “Sorry. It’s a rental.”
"What are you doing in Mexico?" the officer asked.
Silas smiled. "Vacation.”
"Where are you coming from?”
"Did we do something wrong, officer?"
“Where are you coming from?”
"We had been to the ruins, then we were trying to find a cenote, but we got lost.”
Sticking as close to the truth as possible was often the best bet. But we all looked like we had been for a swim.
"No registration. No insurance. Big problemo."
"Like I said, it's a rental. I know we have insurance on the vehicle. I just can't find the paperwork.”
The officer just gave him a blank look.
There was a long, awkward silence.
"Were we doing something wrong?" Silas asked after the silence got to be too much.
The officer nodded. “Si.”
"What's the problem?”
The officer stared him down for a moment. "You got a broken taillight, and you were speeding."
Silas clenched his jaw.
I don't know how fast we were going, but it couldn't have been that fast.
"I'm sorry about that,” Silas said. “We're lost and just trying to get back to Puerto Maya in time for dinner.”
"Step out of the vehicle, por favor.”
Silas shared an uncomfortable glance with Declan, then opened the door and climbed out.
"Have you been drinking?”
"No. Of course not."
The officer grinned and egged him on. "Not even just one?”
"No, sir.”
"But how can you come to the Riviera Maya and not have a margarita?”
"I'm saving a margarita for later.”
“I smell alcohol.”
It was total BS.
“I promise, I haven’t had a drop.”
The officer’s eyes narrowed at him. "I want to show you something.”
The patrolman escorted Silas to the rear of the vehicle. He pointed to a broken taillight.
I hadn't noticed it, but maybe it happened when the cartel thugs shot Felix and Antonio.
They had an intense conversation for a moment. Before long, Silas was in handcuffs. The officer escorted him to the patrol car and stuffed him into the back.
We all groaned. This wasn’t looking good.
The officer returned to the driver’s side window. “I’m arresting your friend.”
“What for?” Declan asked.
“You can follow me to the police station, where you can pay the fine for speeding, the taillight, and his drunk driving.”
I didn't like that idea one bit.
Neither did anybody else in the van.
"Is it possible we can just pay the fine right here in cash?" Declan asked.
The officer pretended to think about it. "I guess that would be acceptable.”
Declan smiled. "Fantastic. How much do we owe?”