A Soldier's Devotion

“That your car?” Stallings jotted notes.

She nodded.

“Name?”

“Val…Valentina Russo.” She spelled it out in breathless syllables. Something inside Vince tried to bend in mercy.

Until he conjured images of his brother’s face as he’d presented the bike to Vince on a prison-visitation weekend. The one prior to the riot that had taken his life. To make matters worse, his brother had been cleared posthumously of charges incurred by a six-man jury trial tainted by a money-hungry, truth-botching lawyer who cared more about retainer fees than ratting out false informants.

Vince hadn’t been able to free his brother or save his life, but he was determined to clear his brother’s name. Just as determined as his brother had been to work toward good behavior that had allowed him to do supervised shop work in order to finish the bike he’d started for Vince.

The very bike this senseless driver had just smashed to smithereens in a preventable accident.

Stallings scribbled on his clipboard then eyed the woman. “Where were you headed in such a hurry?”

“I was on my way to the courthouse near the square.”

“For?”

“Court. I’m an attorney.”

Chapter Two

How could a horrid day have gotten worse?

Val brushed damp hair from her eyes and drew calming breaths as paramedics lifted the man she’d injured into the waiting ambulance. “I h-hope he’s going to be okay,” she murmured. And poor Aunt Elsie!

Val glanced at her watch then at her silent phone. Why hadn’t the ER doctor called back with word on Elsie’s condition?

“Vince is tough, he’ll survive.” The officer beside her tore off a citation and handed it to her. “I’m ticketing you for disobeying a traffic signal.”

Her cheeks flushed. “I understand.”

How embarrassing this would be—paying the fine at the courthouse she went to on a weekly basis as a prosecutor.

But she rightfully deserved the ticket.

And at least he’d only issued her one citation.

Or not.

He’d started scribbling on his pad again.

“According to the skid marks, you weren’t speeding above posted limits. But you were driving too fast for conditions, which I’m issuing you a warning for.” He tore off another ticket and handed it to her.

“Thanks.” Thanks? Who says thanks to a ticket?

Elsie’s fall and this wreck had really rattled her.

“What made you run the red light?”

“On my way to court, I received a call from the hospital that my aunt toppled down her basement stairs on a medical scooter.”

Officer Stallings looked up in an abrupt motion.

“I’m new to town and unfamiliar with this intersection. I saw the light too late,” Val finished, wishing her hands and voice would stop quaking. She’d never in her life been this nervous; not even in court before the most cantankerous and imposing judge.

“You were on the phone?” Stallings policed her with a harsh, discerning look.

Val stepped closer to Stallings. “I didn’t want to explain my emergency in front of Mr. Reardon because I didn’t want to increase his distress.”

Stallings nodded but pulled out his ticket pad again. “Go on.”

“I was getting information as to whether I needed to cancel court to be with my aunt. Now I can’t reach her doctor.”

“That’s who you were talking to when you crashed?”

“Yes, the doctor. The earpiece I ordered from the local cell phone dealer isn’t in yet and I dropped the phone. The call disconnected.”

He wrote and handed her another ticket. “This is for talking on a cell phone while driving which, emergency or not, is illegal in Illinois.”

Of course she deserved it. “I understand. I should have pulled over to talk.” Val fiddled with the pewter bracelet on her wrist—a gift from Aunt Elsie.

Her sincere contriteness softened Stallings’ expression. He motioned her toward two LED-flashing cruisers. “Your vehicle isn’t safe to drive. A tow truck will haul it to Eagle’s Nest Vehicle Repair. I’ll drive you to Refuge Memorial to check on your aunt.”

They got in the car and exited the scene as the ambulance left with Mr. Reardon. Val eyed the bike debris in the road as they passed. “He’s understandably angry that I destroyed it. I’ll pay to have it fixed.” Would her car insurance cover his bike? She hadn’t been paying attention and now she would pay dearly. Val wrung her hands and wished for news on Aunt Elsie.

Stallings flicked a glance her way. “You can’t simply replace that bike. Vince’s brother custom-built it for him. There’s not another like it in the world.”

“Maybe I can have his brother build him another one.” The large van she was saving to buy for transporting at-risk teens around town would have to be put on hold. But such was the nature of consequence.

Stallings shook his head. “Not possible. His brother passed away in prison.”

Her heart leaped to her throat. “Mr. Reardon’s brother was incarcerated?”

“Yes. For a crime someone else committed.”

His steely tone told her that’s all he was going to say about that.

Vince’s brother was wrongly convicted? Had to have been, for an officer of the law to say so with such conviction. And a detectable measure of corporate remorse.

The bottom fell out of her stomach.

Stallings steered left. “So he harbors ill regard for the legal system.”

She’d suspected it when curse-laced words snaked out of Mr. Reardon to strike her the moment she’d explained she was an attorney on her way to court.

“And anyone associated with the judicial system. You, therefore, aren’t on his list of favorite people.”