A Life Wasted

Trouble with Motels

I bought a car from a used car dealer, for cash, of course. It was a three-year-old Ford Crown Victoria. The thing looked just like a police car, which was why I bought it. I bought the car in a name that could pass a police check and had a perfect driver's license to go with it. I went to the state bureau that issued license plates and bought a set of plates for the car, all in the same name. Now both the car and I could stand a computer check. This made me feel much safer.
Shortly after licensing the car I passed an old guy hitchhiking on an interstate on ramp. In my legal life I was always generous about picking up hitchhikers, but while on the run in stolen cars I wasn't so quick to do so. But this particular day was pushing 100 degrees. I'd just stopped for gas and nearly melted in the few minutes I was outside, and this poor guy looked horrible. Plus, I had a legal car now and less to worry about. So I stopped and gave him a ride.

From a distance the guy had looked in his mid-fifties, but was actually about forty. He looked older because he'd lived on the street for more than a decade and had been an alcoholic most of that time. He was grateful for the ride and I felt pretty good about helping him out. However, he stunk so bad that I had to crack a window. I'd already eaten, but a few exits down the road I stopped at a drive-thru and bought food for both of us. Again the guy was grateful. It was not difficult to believe him when he said he'd been "through a rough patch."

A few hours later it was dark and I was ready to stop for the night. It was still miserably hot out so I didn't have the heart to dump the guy so I offered to get him a motel room. When I offered he said, "I'm not like that." I laughed and said neither am I. When we pulled up to the motel I had what I thought was a good idea. I handed him some cash and said why don't you go in and rent two rooms while I make a phone call. He said he would but he didn't have any ID. So I rented the rooms, but the idea had taken hold. My biggest concern lately had been motel clerks.

A week earlier I had checked into a motel, carefully watching the clerk for any sign of recognition as I always do, but saw none. The clerk was a young girl who seemed oblivious so I felt safe. I'd checked into the room late, so just went in with an overnight bag, took off my clothes and went straight to sleep. Twenty minutes later I woke with a sense of imminent danger. I jumped out of bed grabbed my gun and stepped out into the parking lot wearing only my shorts. It was all quiet, no one around. I went back to bed feeling silly, but the feeling of danger stuck with me so I got dressed, grabbed my bag and left the room.

It was later than I preferred being on the road so I nearly went back to the room, but the feeling of peril stayed with me. Rather than drive late I stopped in another motel, one a quarter mile from the one I'd just left and parked in a spot where I could see the room I had just left. My plan was to watch it for an hour then go back and get some sleep. With my scanner on I laid my seat back a little to make myself more difficult to see and waited. I fell asleep almost immediately. It wasn't long before I was awakened by a sound. Something on the scanner that I didn't hear. Awake, I looked around, and then used my binoculars to scan the other motel's parking lot. All was quiet.

Then I heard a clear transmission on my scanner. "Tell them we'll be there in one Mike." This was so clear that I knew it was broadcast from somewhere close. From the frequency used in the transmission I also knew it was from a police radio. One "Mike" means "one minute." One minute after the broadcast a lot of police cars drove past the parking lot I was hiding in, all with their lights off. They turned into the other motel's parking lot and went straight to the room I had just left. That innocent looking young girl met one of the officers and handed him something. No doubt a key to the room I was supposed to be sleeping in.

After that I'd been a little worried about sleeping in a motel room. That next day I bought a long extension cord and an electric chain saw. Every night since that one I parked my car on the opposite of the motel from my room and plugged in the chain saw. My thinking was that if the police surrounded my room, what they would actually do is surround the door, as it was the only exit. I figured with the chain saw I could make another exit, and hopefully get to my car. Being this paranoid did not make for a good night's sleep, so I was thrilled about the idea this homeless drunk gave me.