Harlem, Montana didn’t matter anymore.
The highway patrolman who pulled her over hadn’t put two and two together.
She couldn’t blame him. The car’s title and her driver’s license checked out. He had no reason to search her. The collection of documents remained hidden in her luggage.
If she hadn’t been pushing ninety, she wouldn’t have been pulled over. She reprimanded herself for being too lost in thought. She was still trying to come to grips with all the assaults on the land.
There it was, Harlem Montana shrinking in her rear-view mirror, evaporating like a listless mirage.
