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 I heard the sirens first, so I looked in my rearview mirror and there they were: flashing blue lights. I looked down at the speedometer. 49. No way some asshole's bored enough to give me a ticket for going four over.. I pulled my beat up old Civic onto the shoulder and started digging through the glove compartment for my registration.

Tap tap tap came the sound of the officer's knuckles on my window. "Please roll down your window, sir."

I grabbed the window crank and did as I was told. Having taken my license out of my wallet already, I handed it and the registration to the cop.

"Mind telling me why you pulled me over, Officer? I wasn't speeding." I was honestly confused.

"Mind telling me where you're headed?"

"Home, sir. I just got off work. If I could just get going.. I need to get home to walk my dog."

"I'm sure Rover will make it another few minutes. Please step out of the vehicle Mr.... Sanchez," he said, after checking my license for my name.

"Officer, if you'd just tell me what I've done wrong, I'd be happy to cooperate."

"Out of the vehicle."

I took off my seat belt and stepped outside. "Are you happy now?" I asked him.

"Please open the trunk of the vehicle."

"I'm sorry?"

"You heard me. The trunk."

I had no idea what was going on. What the hell could he want from my trunk? All that was back there was a spare tire, a jack, and one of the twenty dollar tool kits that are only bought by people who obviously don't know how to use them. I didn't particularly feel like getting into it with a cop, though, so I grabbed the keys out of the ignition and circled around to the trunk. As I was looking for the right key off the ring, I tried asking the cop again.

"Look sir, I have no idea what you expect to find in here."

"Open. The. Trunk." Man did he look serious.

"Alright, alright." I found the right key and stuck it in the lock. "You happy?" I asked as I finally got it open. "Nothing but a.." my voice trailed off as I noticed the look on his face. I followed his disturbed gaze and felt my stomach jump up into my throat. I dropped the lid of the trunk, ran into the bushes, and threw up. I could vaguely hear the officer on his radio as I finished reliving my lunch in reverse. When I had nothing left in my stomach, I slowly made my way back to the car, and the body in my trunk.

"Officer, look. I know this is going to sound absurd, but I have no idea how that got there. I swear."

Officer Johnson, as his shirt so-labeled him, had exchanged his radio for a pair of handcuffs. "Mr. Sanchez, I'm sure you've seen enough TV. You know how this works. Face the car, hands on the roof."

I did as I was told, but continued to voice my confusion. "I swear, I've been at work all day. You can ask anyone."

After making sure I was unarmed, he grabbed my wrists, first my left, then my right, and put them in handcuffs.

"You have the right to remain silent. Should you choose to give up that right..." I'm sure you know the rest. He walked me over to his car, opened the back door, gave me an obligatory, "Watch your head," and we were off. Downtown.