It's in the Blood

The sheriff drove like a crazy man to catch the car he was chasing down Coast Highway #101. It seemed the faster he went, the faster the other car went. Finally he lost patience and turned on the siren. Cars pulled over as the two cars raced down the road.
They were almost at Lincoln City, when the lead car gave in. The sheriff pulled up behind the Lexus, clutched the wheel and willed himself to be calm. He got out of the cruiser and stomped up to the front car ready to give her a good talking to about the rules of the road, and trying to outrun the law.
The business suit looked at him.
The sheriff looked back.
There was something awfully wrong here.
“You’re not that crazy reporter!” sputtered Sheriff Grant, what are you doing roaring down the highway like the devils after you? What happened to that city reporter? Who the heck are you?”
The business man took out his wallet and showed his I.D. and his driver’s license. He also took Cam’s ID number and the license number of the police cruiser.
“I don’t know who you thought you were chasing, but you better have a good explanation for that little fiasco back there. You could have gotten me killed. Why didn’t you turn on your siren earlier? I didn’t know who you were I thought you were a hijacker! You just came out of nowhere like a bat out of hell. Rest assured I’ll be speaking to your superiors.”
With those comforting words he grabbed his ID and license from a dumbfounded sheriff and sped away.
Cam stood on the side of the highway and scratched his head. How could he have gotten it so wrong? He was sure he had her in his sights when he pulled out of the parking lot by the police station. And now, he let a speeder fast talk him out of a ticket.
Just then his cell phone went off, and his beeper flashed.
Now what!
* * * *
“Yes sir, I know, everyone calls you when there are speeders on the highway… I was chasing a suspect... No, I didn’t catch him. Well, yes, I guess I did catch him, but he was the wrong one… I was chasing the girl… No, sir, I’m not chasing girls on the town’s dollar. I was chasing that reporter that came down from Portland…about the dead kids on the teeter-totter…yes, that one. I thought she was in the car and she knows something I don’t know…yes, sir, a lot of people know things I don’t know…yes, sir, I’ll certainly try my best to find her. She can’t have gotten far. I’ll let you know as soon as I find her. Yes sir…yes sir, I will sir.”
There was no way he was going to tell the mayor the reason she couldn’t get far is because she didn’t have a car. This realization came to him as he remembered that if she’d had a car, she wouldn’t have had to ride the bus to Chance. There was no explanation good enough to get him off the hook for this one.
He finally remembered his beeper. He looked at the number and knew it was Bert. He took out his cell phone again and called in.
“What’s going on, Bert? Did Kathe Morgan come back?”
“No, she didn’t come back. But, well, I called because I got this phone call that said he was the post office, Main Branch, and he realized a package was delivered to the wrong address. I said I didn’t know anything about that. He said he’d send a mailman over to pick up the package they gave me, I should have it ready by the door. So I said, O.K. But then I remembered we couldn’t find the box. I called the post office back, but they didn’t know what I was talking about, they don’t leave parcels for other people to deliver and they didn’t know who called me, so I just said, no problem, and hung up.”