I nodded in a panic, then shook Rusty hard. “Wake up! There’s a cop outside!” What do we do, what do we do, what do we do?
“Take it easy,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “They probably just want us to move the car or somethin’.” He lay there a minute, blinking up at the ceiling like it was no big deal there was a cop outside the window asking us to get out. Or that I had completely snuggled up to him the night before.
The cop knocked again. “Miss?”
“One second,” I called brightly, hoping being nice would earn me brownie points. “Come on,” I said pulling on Rusty’s arm. “I’m not getting out by myself.”
Finally, he sat up and squinted out the window. “All right, I’m comin’. Gimme a sec.”
“We don’t have a sec. Hurry up.” I smoothed my hair back as if that would somehow make a better impression on the policeman. Rusty finally sat up and nodded at me, and we each opened our door. “Hi,” I said, a little too chipper, to the officer who stood by my door.
He was younger looking than I’d expected, and cute, with buzzed blond hair and bright blue eyes that stood out against the morning gray. “Good morning.” He nodded, then looked past me as Rusty stepped out on his side.
“Mornin’ officer,” he said, running a hand through his hair and wearing his best Big Tex grin. “Is there a problem?”
The officer—S. Chase, according to his name tag, opened his mouth to answer but was interrupted by a snort from a second officer walking up behind him. He was older and taller and had that pompous air about him you can just sense on some people. He adjusted his belt, and as he got to us, chest all puffed out with his own authority, he planted his feet firmly, like he planned on staying awhile.
“‘Is there a problem?’” He laughed like he’d just cracked a joke and looked to Officer Chase like he should too. “That’s a new one, huh?” He turned his attention to Rusty and spoke with a smile that was anything but friendly. “Of course there’s a problem. Otherwise . . . we wouldn’t be knocking on your window this fine morning. Would we?”
I looked to Officer Chase for help. “We’re contacting you because it’s illegal to camp overnight in this parking lot,” he said simply.
“Oh. We . . .”
I didn’t know what to say, but Rusty stepped in with his manners turned up a notch higher than I’d ever seen. “I apologize, sir, we weren’t aware of that. We’ll head out right away.”
The other one shook his head, and the sun glinted off its shiny, bald surface. “Oh, you weren’t aware? Can’t you read? Because you parked directly in front of the sign that says ‘No Overnight Camping Permitted,’ see?” He pointed and, sure enough, below the money-collecting window of the kiosk was a sign saying exactly that. “So no. You won’t be heading out. First we’ll need to see your IDs and the registration for this vehicle.”
Rusty’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t drop his smile. “All right, sure.”
We opened up the two front doors and leaned in to dig for our wallets. Rusty slid his license easily out of his, then opened the glove box. “Registration in here?”
“I think so. . . . I don’t know. . . .” I fumbled with the plastic pocket of my wallet, trying to get my license out.
Rusty looked at me, serious. “What do you mean, you don’t know? Where’d you put it?”
“I mean . . . I don’t think I got it?”
A bad, sinking feeling started in my stomach, and it got worse when Rusty stopped what he was doing and asked me slowly, “Did you pay the registration for the car this year?”
“No. I never did. I thought Finn took care of all that stuff. . . . I . . . oh, no.” I stood up, knocking my head on the door frame in the process.
“You okay, miss?” Officer Chase asked.
“Yeah.” I handed him my license, then rubbed the back of my head. “Here’s this. Um, about the registration—”
“It’s nine months overdue,” the mean one interrupted. “I ran it already. You know what that means, sweetheart?”
“What?” I asked sharply. I was starting to hate this guy a little more every time he opened his mouth. I looked to Officer Chase. “Do I have to pay a big fine or something?”
“It means we have to tow it,” he said grimly. “It can’t be on the road when it’s that long overdue.”
“You can’t tow it! We’re eight hundred miles from home.” I willed myself not to cry. “It was my brother’s car, and he was over in Iraq, and I didn’t know I was supposed to register it, and he . . .”
Rusty cut in. “Look, her brother just passed away, and I’m sure we can get it all straightened out once we get back home, if you could please just cut us a break this time.”
Officer Chase shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.”
I tried not to panic completely. “What can we do, then?” I asked, on the edge of tears. This couldn’t be happening.
His partner pressed his thin lips together and furrowed his brow like he pitied me. “Well, the first thing you can do, Miss . . .”—he peered over Chase’s shoulder at my license—“Lindsey, is accept responsibility for your actions. Says right here you’re almost eighteen—”
“Oh, come on,” Rusty said, stepping in front of me. “If you’re gonna be a dick and take the car, we don’t need a speech, too.”