“Where are you coming from?”
The sheriff’s deputy was standing on NW Sammamish Road at 4:00am, asking me questions through the passenger window of my truck. His vehicle blocked one lane while he stood on the opposite side of the street. When I passed through the said roundabout earlier in my commute, I noticed police lights nearby. I suspected something was going on when I passed another police car as I headed to Issaquah – spotlights trained across the road and into the woods. Farther down the street I could see police lights flashing, pulsing, and reflecting off the trees which cover that stretch; they were coming from several vehicles pulled to the side of the freeway that runs parallel with the Sammamish Road. It was more police activity than I had seen anywhere in a long time. As I rounded the bend I saw even more lights in the middle of the street. The car ahead of me – a Washington State Trooper’s car – was waved through at the checkpoint, but the flashlight that did so stopped my truck.
“Bellevue,” I replied to the deputy. “On my way to work.”
“How did you get on this road?”
“I came down the Lake road, through the roundabout, and down this street.”
“And an officer didn’t stop you back there?”.
“No one stopped me,” I replied to the deputy.
His flashlight waved over the bed of my truck. “Does your (tounneau cover) come off?” he asked.
“Yes it does,” I replied. “I can pull over there and remove it for you.”
“No one’s coming. You can do it here in the street.”
I got out of the truck and snapped the cover back. He painted the inside of my empty truck bed with light and dropped back a bit. “Someone robbed a jewelry store,” he explained. “Thank you sir, and have a good day.”