Clutching the equipment against her body, Peach struggled back to her Thunderbird. She was nearly blind. Twice, the wind literally blew her to her knees. Pine needles whipped around her face, stinging like razors. The water at her feet swirled in foamy whirlpools, keeping her off balance. At her car, she dumped everything onto the passenger seat and heaved herself inside. She was shivering. She turned on the engine and blasted heat into the interior. The wipers shot back and forth.

She examined the electronic equipment, hoping it wasn’t permanently damaged by the storm. When she checked the cables, she found a car charger with an adapter end that fit the laptop. She plugged it in and connected the power end to the car’s cigarette lighter. The AC indicator on the damp machine turned green.

‘Yes,’ she murmured to herself.

Then she jumped so high her head struck the roof.

Someone rapped sharply on the driver’s side window. Peach saw a man completely wrapped in a yellow slicker. His face was flushed and wet, and he looked as young as she was, with a pimply face. His hood was pushed down, and he wore a security officer’s cap, robed in plastic. Behind him, ten yards away, she spotted a white SUV labeled PARK RANGER. The lights were on. The engine was running.

Automatically, Peach hit the lock on the car doors. The park policeman rapped on the window again. She lowered the window an inch, and he pressed his lips close to the gap and shouted to be heard.

‘Ma’am, the park is closed.’

She smiled and shouted back. ‘I was just leaving!’

‘Are you okay? I saw you fall.’

‘I’m fine! Thank you!’

His eyes traveled to the laptop and camera, and then he looked across the roof of the car to the border of the parking lot, where he spotted the Cutlass. She watched his eyes squint with suspicion.

‘Ma’am, what are you doing down here?’

‘What?’ She pretended not to hear.

‘Does that equipment belong to you, ma’am?’ he demanded, pointing at the Toughbook on the seat.

‘You mean the laptop? Of course.’

He frowned. ‘Can you show me some identification, ma’am?’

‘Is this necessary? I need to get home. I’m sorry – I didn’t know the park was closed.’

‘Your ID, ma’am,’ he repeated.

Peach sighed and dug in her back pocket for her wallet. She slid out her driver’s license and passed it through the crack in the window. Rain flooded down the glass inside the car.

‘Turn off your car please, ma’am.’

‘Look, officer, I’m cold and wet. I wasn’t doing anything wrong. Can I please just have my license back?’