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I trudged past the baggage carousels in the arrivals hall wheeling my carry-on bag behind me. What was supposed to have been a relatively quick three night business trip through Miami and then Boston had turned into a week-long nightmare. Before I’d even landed in Boston, the problem that I thought I’d resolved for my client in Miami flared up again. I had no choice but to return to South Florida to re-extinguish the fire.

For a Canadian, spending a week in Miami in early March sounds quite appealing. It might have been if I’d seen anything other than the inside of hotel boardrooms. Plus, the unexpected return trip to Florida meant more time away from Anne. If traffic was decent, I was no more than 25 minutes away from seeing my beautiful wife again. I could hardly wait.

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Traffic Jam

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“We’re making progress,” Gary said, indicating their newest addition. “Xi certainly knows where she’s going.” “I’m not making the same turn-by-turn decisions Be did,” she explained. “I can tell which direction we want and approximately how far away it is.” Gary slowed and eased into the right-hand, slower-traffic lane. “Why are we slowing?” Al asked. “There’s a police car behind us. It was behind the other cars, but now it’s following us.” Al glanced over his shoulder, noting the...

Heavy TrafficChapter 5

Late morning traffic on Interstate 475 in the middle of the week consisted of more semis than cars which was a dual-edged sword as Sean saw it. It made the presence of his three trucks less obvious but made his vehicle, as well as any police vehicles, stick out much more than he would have liked. A passenger vehicle that purposely stayed in the right lane following slower moving trucks rather than passing them was hard not to notice. Sean turned on his emergency flashers, hoping that anyone...

Heavy TrafficChapter 18

As the crow flies, Jun Kim’s house on Woodlake Drive was probably less than ten miles from Stephan Mota’s own house, but due to the shape of Lake Lanier along its southern shoreline, and the congestion caused by mid-afternoon traffic, it took Mota more than an hour to drive there. Exchanging nothing beyond the standard pleasantries until they had boarded Kim’s twenty-five-foot pontoon boat, and had reached a distance from the shore that would render parabolic microphones ineffective, the two...

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