Catherine Lanigan

Hers To Protect


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Mrs. Beabots stared at Violet. “This wouldn’t be about Josh Stevens, would it?”

      Violet’s hand went numb and she dropped her fork. The silence at the table was deafening. “How. Did. You. Know?”

      “Katia told me. Josh Stevens is the reason she couldn’t be here. Josh is staying with Austin and Katia tonight. She’s making crab.” Mrs. Beabots beamed.

      Violet was glad she’d already dropped her fork. She had to close her mouth. Josh had said he knew Austin, but she hadn’t believed him. She simply assumed Josh was grasping for anything that would aid in his release. Lots of people knew Austin. Now that she had a chance to think about it, it made sense. Austin was a huge antique car collector. She’d heard stories that Austin’s grandfather had been a designer with the Duesenberg brothers at the turn of the last century. Austin’s father had collected cars all his life. Josh and Austin probably met at an auction or something.

      She took a sip of wine.

       Just my luck.

      Bad luck at that. She’d arrested not only a celebrity, but one who was friends with her friends. Terrific.

      Violet couldn’t have been more embarrassed. She’d only been doing her job. “He was speeding,” she said without a trace of emotion. “I ticketed him.”

      “Speeding? Isn’t that what he does?” Maddie joked.

      “Uh, not going down the county road in front of my mother’s house.”

      “Oh, that’s not good,” Liz added.

      “It’s not. I can’t tell you exactly how fast he was going.”

      Silence.

      “It’s a confidentiality issue,” she continued.

      They continued to stare at her, like hungry baby birds.

      “Well, we’ll read it in the newspaper tomorrow,” Maddie said.

      “Yeah.” Violet remembered Scott’s visit to the station. Resigning herself to the inevitable, she said, “It was over two hundred miles an hour.”

      All four gaped at her.

      “Good for you!” Sarah exclaimed. “What if some kids were out bike riding now that the weather’s nice? They could have gotten scared, lost their balance.” She dropped her forehead to her palm. “It could have been disastrous.”

      Mrs. Beabots’s eyes narrowed. “He was driving that blue Bugatti Chiron, wasn’t he?”

      “I believe so.”

      Sarah cranked her head up. “How do you know about Bugattis?”

      “I used to own one.” Mrs. Beabots grinned. “I like to keep up. And I read in Race Car Driver Magazine that Josh bought one.”

      Violet rolled her eyes. Was everyone she knew a Josh Stevens fan?

      Liz sank her fork into the pasta. “It may not seem like much, Violet, but thank goodness you were there in the right place at the right time today.”

      “Thanks, Liz. I needed that.”

      Mrs. Beabots took a thoughtful sip of wine. “You know, this gets me to thinking about my fund-raiser. What I’m proposing is ambitious for Indian Lake,” she said. “Violet, you certainly are aware of the situation with the many foster children in the system, what with Isabelle and Scott adopting their foster children.”

      “I do. And I applaud you for taking on such a task. How much do you want to raise?”

      “Oh, it’s not just the money we need, Violet. Sophie and Jack Carter helped to get the Alliance Recovery Center for addiction support and rehabilitation started. They’ve made incredible progress, and their efforts are working. Though addressing the drug problem is vital, this town has to deal with the abandoned children and homeless families that are the fallout. We need a facility with day care and programs for the children and the parents. I want more than counseling. The children need activities and learning experiences. And so do the parents. Their backs are against the wall, and they’re desperate.”

      “They need options,” Violet agreed.

      “Yes,” Mrs. Beabots said. “We will staff it, and I personally will award an endowment so that the shelter can go on for years.”

      “You will?” all four women chorused.

      “Sarah, I told you I was the ambitious type.” Mrs. Beabots smiled proudly.

      “Yes, but...” Sarah looked from Violet to Maddie and to Liz.

      Mrs. Beabots wagged her forefinger at Sarah. “Now don’t go thinking because I’m older that I can’t do this. I can and I will. I want to leave something that will go on—after I’m not here.”

      Violet reached over and touched Mrs. Beabots’s hand. “You are all heart.”

      “Look who’s talking. You don’t fool me, Violet Hawks. If you weren’t trying to eliminate crime in our town, you’d be the first to take in these children and you know it.”

      “Well, I’m not sure about that. I don’t have much experience with kids.” Violet felt a pinch in her heart thinking about the infants that were abandoned by addict mothers and fathers. She pushed her emotions aside. “So, Mrs. Beabots. Exactly what are you thinking? To build this kind of shelter will take millions. And just as much to staff.”

      “I understand that. I have philanthropic friends all across Indiana. It’s about time I talked to them. And Maddie, I could have a chat with that friend of yours, Alex Perkins, who helped you get the investor for your café.”

      Maddie folded her hands and rested her chin on them. “You have been thinking about this, haven’t you?”

      “Ever since I started volunteering at The Alliance. But this idea came to fruition when Beatrice Wilcox and Rand Nelson took in those two foster boys of theirs. If more people stepped up to the plate like they did, think of the lives that would be changed forever.”

      She picked up her linen napkin and dabbed her eyes.

      Maddie said, “I think this is a great idea. I want to help.”

      “Me, too,” Liz chimed in.

      “You know I’m at your beck and call,” Sarah said.

      “I’ll help in any way I can,” Maddie said. “I could organize food pantry donations at my café.”

      Liz nodded. “I can help with that as well at the vineyard. In fact, we should double our efforts during harvest when we have so many tourists to the vineyard. With the holidays after that, Thanksgiving donations tend to soar.”

      “That’s a wonderful idea,” Mrs. Beabots said.

      Maddie snapped her fingers. “It should be an annual event. Maybe we could have a harvest dance and donation at the vineyard. I’ll donate cupcakes, doughnuts, cider. The tourists will love it.”

      “So would I,” Liz said.

      “Mrs. Beabots,” Violet said slowly, “this is a monumental task. You’re going to need more than just us. What if I were to talk to my chief? Perhaps the Indian Lake County Sheriff’s Department. Both have resources and connections we could use.”

      “That’s a fine idea, Violet.” Mrs. Beabots placed her hand over Violet’s. “I’ve thought of everything from taking on one of the old mansions that needs renovation and starting there. I’ve toyed with the idea of asking Gina Barzonni to donate a tract of her farmland to build on, too.”

      Maddie looked at Liz. Gina was mother-in-law to them both. “What do you think? Would Gina do that?”

      “Gina adores children. I think if we presented it to her the right way, she just might. Rafe is