replied adamantly.
“Who cares?”
“I do! It’s the law. He broke the law and then resisted arrest.”
“Oh, this is good.”
“Don’t write anything until we’re in court, please?”
“Violet, today this story is a scoop. In a couple weeks, half the country will know about it and I’m just another guy covering the beat. I’ll lose my edge.”
Sal Paluzzi slammed down his phone and sprang out of his chair. He rushed past Violet’s desk. “Where’s the fire?” she asked.
“Be right back,” Sal said with a wave over his shoulder as he headed to the doors to the front hall.
A moment later, Sal was back with his wife, and five young children. The kids were chattering excitedly. Sal’s wife was wearing a particularly lovely spring sweater, a floral dress and kitten-heeled shoes. Her dark hair tumbled down her back in perfect curls. Being a hairdresser, Patrija always looked her best, but today Violet guessed she was on her way to a party. Since Sal and Patrija had only one child, eight-year-old Antony, Violet guessed the other kids must be friends.
They walked toward the cell-block door. It was then Violet noticed that each child held a notebook.
“Autographs?” She started toward Sal. Scott reached out and touched her forearm.
“Vi, let it go.”
“He’s practically holding court in there,” she said. “This isn’t punishment for him in the least.”
“No,” Scott replied. “But why is it killing you so much?”
She jerked her head back to Scott. “I... I’m... It’s not. In fact, this just goes to prove my earlier evaluation of him. People who live with that kind of notoriety and influence use it to their own advantage.”
“That can be true.”
“Believe me, it’s very common.” Again, she thought of her childhood bully, Billy Pope, and how he used his father’s power as the town mayor to go after other, weaker kids. “What I do know is that I’ll be very glad when Josh Stevens leaves town. He’s precisely the kind of person I would avoid,” she said as her eyes strayed back to the cell-block door and lingered.
“Yeah, right,” Scott replied.
When Violet’s phone rang and she glanced back at Scott, she realized he was watching her closely. She picked up the receiver. “Officer Hawks.”
She listened as Josh’s manager, Harry Wilcox, explained that the bail bondsman would post bail within thirty minutes. He hoped Violet would have all the necessary paperwork ready. She assured him that everything was in order.
As she ended the call, the chief walked up. “Hawks, I just got off the phone with Harry Wilcox. I’m giving the newspaper permission for an interview.” He nodded at her brother-in-law. “I trust you’ll be, er, complimentary, Scott?”
“Absolutely, sir.”
The chief walked away. Scott smiled at Violet.
“Looks like you’ll get your scoop, Scott,” she said. “Why don’t I give Josh your card? He may not want to be interviewed in or near the jail.”
“You’re probably right. Here ya go,” he said, reaching in his wallet. “I appreciate it, Violet.”
Scott kissed her cheek.
“Hug Isabelle and the kids for me,” she said.
“Officer Hawks,” Trent Davis said, standing in the doorway to his office. “Do you have your report ready?”
“Yes, sir. I’m printing it out now.”
“Good. Bring it in.” He smiled faintly. “Then go down to the cell and get Josh Stevens’s autograph for me before he leaves. Have him sign it to my son, Danny.”
Violet gaped as he closed his door. “Not you, too?”
VIOLET HANDED THE document to the bondsman, who scribbled something illegible on it and handed her the cash.
She stapled the paperwork together and went to the cell block, unable to help the wave of incompetence that swept through her veins. Deflated and riddled with guilt for the disappointment she’d caused Detective Davis, she was in no mood for gloating from Josh Stevens.
She squared her shoulders as she tucked in her shirt and smoothed her uniform slacks. It was the end of the day, and all she wanted was a hot bath. But first, she had this duty to perform.
She handed the paperwork to Trey as the metal door closed behind her.
“He said his manager would pull through,” Trey said, smiling.
“Had a nice chat, did you?”
“Oh, we did. Josh has the most amazing stories. You know he’s raced in Europe and...”
“Not now, Officer. I’m here to release him.”
Josh was sitting on the bare bench inside the cell. He looked up at her. “Nice jail you have.”
“This isn’t the jail. We use this room to house criminals we know will only be here a few hours. Like you.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m not a criminal.”
“Fine.” She motioned to Trey. “You can open it up.”
Josh stood. “I’m being released?”
“Yes. It’s my duty to inform you that you will have to return to Indian Lake in ten days for a hearing. At that time, I will give my testimony to the judge. You will give yours or your lawyer will speak for you. That’s your call. What happens next will be up to the judge.”
“What’s typical in cases like mine?”
“There aren’t many cases like yours.”
“Okaaay. Similar cases.”
“He or she may give you a fine. And the speeding ticket will be reported on your record as well as the charge of resisting arrest.”
Josh walked to the open jail door. “And the endangerment to others?”
“That, too.”
Violet struggled to remain calm. She took a step back from him, wondering how he could smell like clean soap and spicy cologne after most of the day in lockup.
Just looking at him reminded her that she’d bungled her job, and badly. All her life, she’d prided herself on her instincts and her intuition. She’d relied on those instincts when she’d started the chase after Josh, believing him to be the drug lord. She had wrongly mistaken his Bugatti as Miguel Garcia’s car.
She handed Josh his release papers.
“Well, Officer Hawks, I can tell you that my attorney is not only smart but effective. This speeding ticket and the other trumped-up charges you’ve brought against me won’t fly. As far as I’m concerned, you stole a day of my life. My agent has been dodging calls all day about my whereabouts. And the fallout I’m going to face once the story gets out that you, Officer Hawks, chose to incarcerate me to make yourself look good to your superiors...”
Violet opened her mouth to speak, her words coming in an indignant squawk. “Mr. Stevens,” she managed, “this disruption in your life is your fault. Not mine. Apparently, you haven’t learned there is a price to pay for your behavior.”
“Behavior? Your hot-headed reaction is to blame here. My guess is that because you’re so young, you haven’t been doing this long. So, I’m going to give you that, Officer Hawks. I’ve told my attorney