The Voting Machine

A Strange Scent

We were coming down off the edge of the high desert when I saw the CHP lights flash behind me. At first, I assumed the officer must have been going after someone in front of me in the distance.

When the patrol car locked onto my tail, I switched lanes thinking he wanted to pass. Then I realized the cops were coming for me. So I pulled over with my heart racing full throttle.

"Step out of the car, please," the first officer ordered, walking to the driver's side window. He saw Annabelle waking up in the passenger's seat and grinned. He took my identification and placed my hands on the roof of the car.

His partner opened the rear door of the patrol car and brought out a Labrador retriever on a leash. This was a K-9 unit, probably the same unit they used to sniff out the truck.

"Was there any problem with his driving officer?" Annabelle said, stepping out on her side of the car. She sounded nervous and watched the dog with alarm. Seeing her scared me, because I couldn't figure out why she'd be worried about the dog unless there were drugs hidden somewhere in the car.

The first cop stood behind me and shined his flashlight right in my face.

"Cuahtehmoc. What the hell kind of name is that?" he whispered in my ear while he ogled Annabelle from a distance. "Little piece of shit like you driving a nice car with a good-looking girl like that? You think you belong here? You think your dirty money buys you some kind of privilege?"

"You got the wrong idea, sir."

"You're not going to find anything in our car, officers," Annabelle said, displaying her driver's license for the cops to see. "That's because we're on your side. I run a charity for victims of substance abuse. I've put millions of dollars of my family's money into this cause. We're fighting the same fight."

The Labrador retriever climbed inside the car and started sniffing around back seats. The second officer took out the floor mats and looked inside the glove compartment. When the Lab was finished inside, his master popped the trunk and took our bags out of the back. He opened up our bags, giving the dog the opportunity to smell everything.

I knew there was nothing we could do. Cops don't need a warrant to search your car and they can take whatever they want. All they need is probable cause. And tonight, with the truck stop and the crackdown on Los Empresarios distribution route, my presence in the car with Annabelle was enough to arouse suspicion.

The dog kept circling the car. He didn't seem satisfied. The cops had turned our car inside out but the dog still seemed to be searching for something he couldn't find. Even the cops didn't seem sure whether he'd picked up a scent or not.

"I told you you're not going to find anything," Annabelle said gently.

Finally, they led him away from the car over to me.

"Empty your pockets," the first officer said.

I moved my hands and the dog growled at me. He stuck his nose against my groin and bared his fangs.

"Never mind," the cop said, pushing the Lab back. "I'll empty them for you."

I raised my hands and he reached into my left hand pocket. He removed my house keys, for a home where I was no longer welcome. He took the cash I tried to use to fill Annabelle's gas tank. Then he went to my right hand pocket and scooped out something I'd complete forgotten about.

It was the gold skeleton goddess of death, the pendant that Juan Ricardo gave me in jail.

Santa Muerte.

"What the hell is this?" The cop exclaimed. "Look what this asshole's carrying," he said, holding it up for his partner.

The dog circled me and then backed off.

The second officer spoke to his partner in a low voice. "This car is clean. We've searched the mats, the seats, the trunks. There's nothing in there."

"What about this?" The first officer said, pointing to Santa Muerte. "This shows us who he is. All the gangsters carry this. It's their god."

"We can't impound the car based on that. That's just a piece of jewelry. It doesn't prove anything."

Finally, the cops let us go on our way. I breathed a deep sigh of relief. I was incredibly lucky they'd been looking for the wrong thing when they pulled me over. The one cop clearly didn't like me and was looking for a reason to take me in.

If they hadn't been so focused on their K-9's fruitless hunt for substances, they could've run a check on my license in the system to see that it was suspended. That alone would've sent me back to jail.