The Ghost of Dome Rock Road

Some Guy Named Barry

Damian ended his call, rose from his desk, and reached for his cap. There's a crash on the I-10 near the California border at Mile Marker 10, he told another trooper. Damian retrieved a leather attaché with his initials monogrammed in big gold letters from his desk. It's exquisite looking, a present his dad gave him for his birthday. Damian stored official research documents, departmental memos, newspaper clippings, and other items in the fancy leather briefcase. He'd been collecting this stuff as part of his work on a big project.

Damian led a team investigating the unusually high number of wrong-way driver incidents along Arizona's highways was formed after fatal accidents increased exponentially over a recent five-year period. Arizona's Governor was getting a lot of political heat to address the problem. The team included the project's sponsor, Arizona State Senator Lewis Witter from Maricopa County, a personal friend of the Governor. A professor with the Behavioral Health Department at Arizona State University, a project manager from the U.S. Department of Transportation, and a grad student from ASU.

Several weeks have elapsed since Damian's last investigation. This new crash is not far from his previous investigation - just east of the Dome Rock Road exit on the I-10. On his way out, he poked his head into the breakroom and called out to the grad student, scarfing down a bowl of instant ramen. "Ms. Wheeler, grab your stuff. We're headed out in five." Just before he reached the front door, Damian got intercepted by his post commander. His boss wanted to know how the Dome Rock Road investigation was going. More precisely, when did he think he'd complete his report?

They had a request from the La Paz County Sheriff's Department. Sheriff Koontz wanted to review the Dome Rock Road report before it was published. Damian felt a small lump form in his throat. "What do you tell him?" Damian asked. "Well, it's not normal procedure to do this sort of thing, but I called the sheriff and said I'd let him peruse the report if he comes here to view it. I'm not sending something like that out over the wire, for God's sake!" Damian nodded in agreement. "I'm still tying up a few loose ends. It should be a couple of weeks, "Damian said.

When Damian hopped into the patrol cruiser's passenger seat, his thoughts turned to his conversation with Sheriff Koontz that day at the crash scene. Something wasn't right. The sheriff's tone and body language just wreaked of deception. It bothered him so much he looked up Barry's criminal record. He found no violence-related arrests. There were no instances of careless and reckless driving like Sheriff Koontz alleged Barry was doing that day. It was stuff like vandalism, drug and alcohol-related offenses, traffic citations - lots of petty things. This kind of snooping didn't strictly follow crash investigation protocols prescribed by the department but damn those protocols! Damian rationalized that if someone came after the sheriff in a wrongful-death suit, his team had better have dotted all their I's and crossed all their T's. Their handiwork, or perhaps Damian himself, might wind up in court someday soon.

As the cruiser headed for the I-10, Damian had time to catch up on several reports he's printed out. The department provided ruggedized iPad tablets for everyone. Damian could have just as easily used one of those tablets to store his clutch of paperwork. But he liked being old school. He would reply when teased about his penchant for paper, "Hey! At least paper and ink never run out of battery power when you can least afford it." Today, a data analysis report caught his attention. It backed up his concern about the growing number of wrong-way crashes on Arizona highways. Damian believed the State of Arizona was not doing enough to prevent these crashes, usually the most violent and deadly. The Dome Rock Road crash was a classic example. The off-ramp there was a recipe for disaster. Barry Jankins's unfortunate navigation error was bound to have happened sooner or later. Damian took copious notes and pictures that day. He had sent a memo to the State Transportation Office in La Paz County - asking them to install a more prominent Wrong-Way sign with solar-powered flashing lights on the eastbound off-ramp.

When they arrived at the new crash site, it was almost 9:30 p.m. It was pushing an uncomfortable 89 degrees. This is Arizona in the late summer, after all. Damian's partner, Trooper Max Cardinale, pulled the cruiser behind a giant tow truck. Damian spotted paramedics loading dead bodies into an ambulance. Something was happening in the back of another. Damian headed over to check it out. On his way, he was informed that two adults, one male, and one female, were pronounced dead at the scene. Al and Maddy Simmons, a married couple. Their two adult sons were seriously injured.

Damian asked his partner what was going on inside the ambulance. "It's the deceased man's son. His name is Mark. He's in shock, but before they loaded him into the ambulance, he kept blabbering that his dad told him something bizarre just before their SUV went off the road." Just then, a guy flashing a press credential walked up. Damian acknowledged the man's credential as Cardinale continued. "He claimed that his dad kept yelling that someone named Barry was forcing him to turn the wheel."

Damian asked a paramedic in the ambulance if he could speak to the young man. The paramedic gave him a worried glance. "Ok, but make it quick. We've got a long drive to Parker, and this guy could crater at any moment." Damian poked his head into the ambulance. "Hi, Mark. My name is Damian. I'm with the Arizona Highway Patrol." Marks' eyes are glazed over, but he managed to focus them on the man peering into the back of the transport. "The officer here tells me that your dad was yelling something about someone being in the vehicle with you at the time of the crash." The young man nodded. "Did your dad pick up anybody along the way, like a hitchhiker or something?" The injured young man suddenly tried to sit up but was restrained by the paramedic. Staring indignantly into the trooper's eyes, Mark shouted, "My dad would NEVER, EVER pick up a stranger hitchhiking."

Surprised there was so much energy left in the severely injured patient, Damian asked another question. "Did you meet anyone at a stop along the way, or--" Mark raised his hand and cut Damian off. "There was NO ONE else with us when we crashed, damn it!" The paramedic interceded, "That's all, trooper, we need to scoot." They closed the back door, and the ambulance sped off.

A reporter from the Parker Pioneer, Jessie Gutierrez, had been driving by the crash scene and decided there might be a story. He turned to Damian as the two walked away from the ambulance. He flashed his press credential again, then asked Damien a question. "What do you think his father meant when he said someone named Barry was in the car?" "I don't know, sir. This guy has just been thrown around like a tossed salad, so I assume his head is a little jumbled right now. Maybe he's not thinking too straight?"

Jessie thought what the young man said was very interesting. "Kinda weird that the name Barry came up, huh?" Gutierrez said. "How so?" Damian replied. "You know, that was the first name of the guy who got killed just a couple of miles down the road from here," said the reporter. Damian got visibly annoyed at what was being suggested. Still, for just a second, he flashed on the 'strangeness' he experienced in his patrol car that day out at the Dome Rock Road crash site. "I can't comment on an ongoing investigation, sir. If you'll excuse me," Damian declared as he started hiking down to the smashed Suburban.

Gutierrez began taking pictures with his iPhone when he bumped into a nerdy-looking young woman." She was scampering around the crash scene, taking photos with a large fancy camera. His curiosity got the best of him. He approached her - flashed his press credential - yet again - and asked her what she was doing. "Oh, hi! My name is Jennifer. Jennifer Wheeler. W-h-e-e-l-e-r. I'm working with the Arizona Highway Patrol. The State of Arizona commissioned a study to analyze serious crashes on Arizona highways. Did you know that there are over a thousand wrong-way driver incidents in the state every year? Wrong-way driver incidents result in hundreds of crashes and dozens of fatalities."

Gutierrez pondered. 'Hmmm! Maybe I do have a story here.' "Can I get your phone number, Ms. Wheeler?" he asked the bespectacled young student. "In case I have any follow-up questions." She hesitantly agreed but warned him that she couldn't share any specific data she's been collecting. Jessie thought to himself, "yeah, that's what they always say." Yet, he's always found a way to get the information he needed when the story required it. He felt a story brewing. Maybe a big one. He may need some of the data the young lady was collecting.