Read Online Above the Law by J. F. Freedman - Free Book Online

But this had been a huge big deal. For a week or so, I and my fellow hostages were going to be famous.
    The question that hit me the most was asked by a reporter for the Los Angeles Times: “Given all the problems these two fugitives had—the storm, running from the authorities—why do you think they raped these women? What was their point?”
    I looked at the dozens of cameras and microphones all pointing at me, all waiting to hear what I had to say. “It’s a disease of arrogance certain people in authority get,” I ventured. “They want something—like these two wanted that money they robbed—so they convince themselves that they’re entitled to it. It’s a belief—a dangerous, erroneous belief—that the law doesn’t apply to you like it does to civilians, and you can choose not to obey it, and that’s all right. The rationale is that you’re out there on the streets, putting your life on the line, and you deserve some payback. Which is a very dangerous concept, if you follow it through. Like we saw here.”
    The girls were airlifted out on a medevac helicopter. The rest of us would have to wait until the roads were cleared and we could drive. Before they left, the four of us shared a private moment.
    “We’re going to be okay,” Marilyn assured me. Once Bill had forced her into the Winnebago, she had taken a cunning tack; instead of fighting him, which would have resulted not only in rape but a brutal beating as well, she had shifted gears and made nice to him, prolonging the foreplay as long as she could. It had worked; she had escaped being raped.
    I gave her my card. “Keep in touch. Let me know how Jo Ellen’s doing.”
    “I will.”
    She lingered a moment while the other two boarded the chopper. “You saved my life,” she said once again. “We’re bonded for eternity.” She smiled. “In many cultures, you’re responsible for us for the rest of your life. Do you think you could handle that?”
    I smiled back. I could smile, now that our ordeal was over. “Are you going to hold me to that?”
    She shook her head. “We’re not one of those cultures, unfortunately. Anyway…like I said, your wife is a lucky woman. A very lucky woman.”
    One kiss before parting, maybe never to see each other again. It was a good kiss, not the kiss a married man should be having with a beautiful woman half his age. But somehow it didn’t feel bad, or wrong. It felt bonded, the right farewell.
    Bill’s and Joe’s backpacks were propped up on a table in the middle of the room. Behind them stood all the law enforcement people, while the gathered media were on the other side, cameras at the ready.
    “Here we go,” Keller said. He upended the hags, spilling the contents onto the tabletop. The money came tumbling out. Packets of it, tens, twenties, fifties, hundreds. The cameras clicked and whirred like crazy. If this picture didn’t make the covers of Time and Newsweek, for sure it would be on the front of next week’s Enquirer.
    “That’s what two million dollars looks like?” Deedee said.
    Keller laughed. “More like half a mil. The banks always exaggerate, ’cause they know Lloyd’s of London will try to squeeze them.”
    The FBI people loaded everything, including the corpses, into their helicopters and took off. The CHP and county boys waited with us. Deedee washed down most of the carnage, Ray cooked up a hellacious banquet, and the drinks were on the house. The clock had not yet struck twelve, but no one was holding hack. We all had great cause for celebration.
    The roads were cleared for travel by midafternoon. Everyone departed; I was the last one left.
    “Thank God for ’ol Brewster,” I told Wally.
    “Thank God for ’ol Luke who had the guts to use ’ol Brewster,” he replied.
    I broomed the sand off my ancient truck. It started without a hiccup, a deep growl rumbling from the muffler. They’re great beasts of burden, these old American pickups. Letting it idle to warm up, I walked