His wins on the track weren’t enough. He wasn’t feeling victory the way he had a few years ago. If anything, he felt the burden of the win. More would be expected of him. He was responsible for more people in his entourage.
Harry wiped his face with his palm. “I’m gonna have arrhythmia before this is over. I’m too young for this stress.”
“I’m handling this...”
“You? Oh, right. Sure. Do you have any idea what I’ve been going through?”
Josh cocked his head, his eyes on Harry. “Tell me.”
“I knew we had to deflect the situation. I planted those interview stories you did for me a few months back all over the internet. I’ve had Madison out there tweeting photos of last year’s win every fifteen minutes. I’ve got our social media team going after new podcasts, YouTubers, newspapers and posters on abandoned playgrounds...anything to keep the spotlight away from this Indian Lake fiasco and focused on your attributes. But it’s still not enough. I need to show you’re more than a driver... I need to show your humanity.”
“My what?”
“You know, concern for the community. Involvement. We should attach you to a charity. I need to show a different face of Josh Stevens.”
“I’m not going to start kissing babies.”
Harry snapped his fingers. “Great idea! Kids are good. Forget the models.”
“Harry—” Josh dropped his chin to his chest with a sigh “—please. This is nothing. I’ll talk to the judge and get the speeding ticket and the resisting arrest thing expunged.”
Harry’s eyes narrowed; his face grew grim. “You listen to me, Josh. I’ve been with you from nearly the beginning. You’re a smart guy. This blaze of fame can be extinguished in a heartbeat. One screw-up like this could end your career.”
“Harry...”
“No matter how you paint this, you were wrong. You’re lucky you didn’t hit someone. Even a dog or cat. They would rake you over the coals for that. There is no way I’m letting you go into that traffic court without Paul.”
“Is that really necessary?”
“It’s all-important. Maybe I haven’t been clear. The stakes can be high for you. If this goes down badly, or the press gets away from us, painting you as a reckless driver, you could be cut from the race.”
“But I’ve qualified. All we’re doing now is vying for our positions on the track.”
“Josh, you know as well as I do everyone has a camera on their phones and tablets. Any celebrity can be caught at any moment in embarrassing situations. Cops, cars and race car drivers are a recipe for disaster, promotionally speaking.”
“I know that, Harry. I do. But being cut...”
“‘Josh Stevens’ is no longer just you.” He flapped his hands in front of Josh, the gesture erratic and displaying Harry’s frustration and fear. “Josh Stevens is a corporation. Multimillion dollar business. The last two years you’re one of the top three Formula One drivers in the world. You killed at Bahrain International Circuit and in the German Grand Prix. And...and...Monaco—!”
“Is like riding a bike around my living room,” Josh interjected.
“Abu Dhabi Grand Prix. Not to mention Italy...”
Josh held up his palm. “I get it.”
“Good,” Harry barked. “This corporation can’t afford any hiccups.” Harry picked up the phone and hit a button. “Is Paul in? Great. I have Josh here.”
Harry put the call on speaker. “Paul, thanks for taking our call.”
“Paul, how’s it going?” Josh tried to smile through his greeting, but failed. He knew he had to listen to both Harry’s and Paul’s advice.
“Fine, Josh. I’m glad you’re with Harry. We had a long talk yesterday while you were...visiting Indian Lake.”
So, Harry’s angst was driven by legal counsel? Josh sat up straighter in his chair. “I’m listening, Paul.”
“Once you get a hearing date, you call me. I’ll drive up and represent you. Make no statements about anything in regard to the speeding charges or the arrest to a single soul. Obviously not the press. It’s too easy for you to say something that can be misconstrued as condescending or even detrimental to our case.”
“Paul, you know I wouldn’t do that.”
“Is that right?”
Josh didn’t like the brittle edge to Paul’s words. “Why do I get the feeling there’s more going on here than just my traffic ticket?”
Harry avoided Josh’s gaze.
Not good.
“Because there is, Josh. I’ve been on the phone most of yesterday and half the night. I spoke with Chief of Police Williams there in Indian Lake. Seems he and his detectives have gathered a great deal of intel he wanted to share with me.”
“And?” Josh felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle and chills shoot down to his tailbone. He didn’t like Paul’s tone. And why would Paul feel the need to talk to the chief of police over a traffic ticket? Was his “resisting arrest” charge that worrisome?
“Do you remember when I defended Diego Lopez, your friend from that foster home, on a marijuana possession charge a few years ago?”
“Yeah. Sure. He was very grateful. So was I. I mean, I am.”
Paul cleared his throat before he began. “Apparently, you haven’t kept up with Diego lately.”
“No, I haven’t, now that you mention it. I’ve been—” his eyes tracked to Harry, who made certain Josh didn’t have more than an hour to himself that was not productive in either advertising, training or promoting the next race or product “—busy.”
“Well, Diego has been busy, too. When was the last time you saw him?”
“I dunno...”
Harry held up two fingers.
“Two years ago. His birthday.”
“That’s when you gave him the Maserati?” Paul asked.
“It was. How...did you know that?”
“Skill.”
“What?”
Paul continued. “One of my many talents, I like to think anyway, is investigation. I haven’t dealt with criminal law for some time, but as rusty as I am, I found out plenty.”
Josh moved to the edge of his chair to be closer to the speakerphone. “Cut the crap. Why would the Indian Lake police divulge information to you?”
“Because I’m your lawyer. Because they’re hoping you have information about Diego that will help them. That’s why.”
“Go on.”
“Diego Lopez calls himself Miguel Garcia now. The word on the street is that he’s trying to take over the remainder of the Le Grand gang. That’s not confirmed, however. The stakeout that Officer Hawks was on when she spotted you was all about your pal Diego.”
Josh shot to his feet. “This can’t be true! Diego was wild, but not like this.” He raked his hair. “Seriously? You’re telling me that my Maserati is helping to ship illegal drugs to an offbeat, quaint little town like Indian Lake?”
“I am,” Paul replied.
“This is not good.” He thought for a moment. “Paul, do these Indian Lake cops think I’m involved with Diego—er, Miguel’s drug business?”
“When I spoke with Chief Williams, I made it clear to him that you have never done drugs or dealt them. I reminded him that you are very outspoken against drugs in the media, and have personally donated money to the Indiana Addiction Hotline.
“Chief Williams clearly stated that they do not think you are involved with Miguel’s drug traffic business. But they’re curious as to why he is driving a car that you still own title to. I intend to be there for your hearing. There is no way I’m going to let you stand in front of even a traffic court judge with Miguel Garcia’s shadow looming over you.”
“But I haven’t heard from him since that party two years ago.”
“I believe you. But I know you, Josh. All I can say is that from now unt
il the time of that hearing, you keep your nose clean. Be sweet as you know how to be. Help little old ladies across the street. Buy a case of Girl Scout cookies. And stay out of sight.”
“I understand.”
Harry leaned toward the speakerphone. “Paul, Josh has to go back to Indy for training until the hearing. Is there a problem with that?”
“I don’t see any. But if for any reason you hear from Miguel, you call me no matter what time it is. Day or night. You got that?”
Josh could feel ropes of stress constricting his chest, imprisoning him. All because he’d tried to be the big brother to Diego once again. He’d wanted to share his good fortune with the closest person he had to family. Never had Josh thought that Diego would literally take the car and run. It wasn’t so much the car, it was the fact that Diego discarded Josh, his overture of a renewed friendship, his affection. Worse, Diego hadn’t straightened out his act at all. He appeared bent on making a name for himself and finding his own fame—in the criminal world.
Paul interrupted Josh’s thoughts. “I mean it, Josh. These cops may be small town, but they’re highly trained and smart.”
“I see that. But why do you think Diego would contact me now?”
Harry rolled his eyes.
Paul said, “That, my friend, is one of the rules of the universe. When things start going haywire, lightning strikes, electrifying those wires and creating destruction.”
“And I thought I was paying my attorney to reassure me. Give me confidence,” Josh moaned.
“You pay me to protect your interests. That’s what I’m doing. You’ve never caused me a single night’s lost sleep.”
“Until now.”
“Look, Josh. I believe in preparation. If we know the players and what’s at stake, we can deal with the blows as they come. But when a rookie cop is on a stakeout for a known drug dealer whom you happen to have known for years, and then charges you with resisting arrest near said known drug dealer’s possible location, it doesn’t look good. Quite frankly, I’m surprised the ILPD didn’t put a tail on you. Are you certain you weren’t followed to Chicago?”
Josh walked to the end of the room where Harry kept a thermal pitcher of ice water, sliced limes and glasses. He poured himself a glass and rolled it over his sweaty forehead. “How did this happen?”
“You were driving too fast in the wrong place,” Harry said.
I was thinking about my mother.
“I know,” Josh replied softly, looking down at the ring of lime in his water. He hadn’t been thinking. He hadn’t looked at the speedometer. He’d been lost in memory. “I’m sorry.”
“Let’s keep our eye on the ball here,” Harry said. “What’s done is done.”
Josh turned around and looked at Harry. “But it’s not over.”
Paul spoke over the speakerphone. “Josh, when you get back to Indy, come into the office. I want to go over our courtroom strategy.”
“Fine.” Josh downed the rest of the chilled water. “I’ll do whatever is necessary.”
“You’ll let me do the talking. Call me when you get back here.”
“Thanks, Paul,” Josh said. “I really do appreciate everything—”
Paul cut him off. “I know you do. Drive carefully coming back.”
“Done,” Josh said as they both hung up.
Harry stood up. “You want to get some lunch?”
“Not really.” He put down the glass and looked at Harry. “I didn’t know about Diego or whatever his name is now. I thought he was straightening out. I thought if I helped him with his back rent and the Maserati, he would see the value in working toward a goal.”
Harry’s dour expression said it all.
“You’re worried.”
“I’ve been worried,” Harry admitted. “But that was just about a speeding ticket. I had no idea Diego was vying to be some drug kingpin.”
“Nor did I.”
“That changes things. All I can say is that Paul is right. You need to stay as squeaky clean as possible.”
“Meaning?”
“Do something that would make those folks over there in Indian Lake want to erect a monument to you.”
“What would you do?”
“That’s easy. I’d stay away from rookie cops who want to build a reputation by slapping your butt with citations, and drug lords who could pull you down at any minute.”
Josh didn’t know why he instantly thought of Officer Hawks’s probing green eyes. Why his mind went to the image of her blazing righteousness when she’d argued with him as she arrested him. But he found himself admiring her sense of duty.
Josh wouldn’t have any trouble staying clear of Diego. He hadn’t been in touch with him for years.
Officer Hawks was another matter. He’d be seeing her in court.
What puzzled him most was why that thought made him smile.
CHAPTER EIGHT
VIOLET FACED BLACK-ROBED Judge Sandra Lewis, whose stone-faced expression matched her own. This wasn’t her first time in front of a judge bringing a witness to a traffic violation, but this was her first time to defend her actions as an arresting officer. She knew that if she’d been the last officer called up, instead of being the first case to be heard as she and Josh Stevens were, her shoes would be full of nervous sweat.
As it was, she had plenty to be nervous about. Josh was accompanied by his attorney, Paul Saylor. Chief Williams had informed Violet of his conversation with the attorney.
It didn’t help that several deputy sheriffs had shown up. From their admiring glances toward Josh and their overzealous smiles, Violet couldn’t help wondering if they’d shown up to get Josh’s autograph or photos with him. Deputy Sheriff Amswell, who had driven Josh’s car back to town from the scene, was also present. He tipped his head in her direction.
She nodded back. Amswell had been instrumental in her strategy for today’s appearance.
“Officer Hawks. Present your case for the State.”
“Yes, Your Honor,” Violet began, her mouth full of cotton. The words came slowly as she struggled to keep all emotion out of her statement. “On May 3 of this year, I clocked the defendant’s vehicle, a 2018 Bugatti Chiron, at two hundred and two miles per hour. The driver did not slow down or pull over. Instead, he forced me to chase him.”
“That’s not true!” Josh blurted.
She glanced at him just as his attorney elbowed him. Josh closed his mouth and tore his eyes from her and back to the judge.
Violet went on to describe the ticketing. The judge showed no emotion, not even a raised eyebrow when Violet described Josh threatening her job.
Judge Lewis looked at Josh and his attorney, Paul Saylor. “What say you?”
As Josh parted his lips, Paul cocked his shoulder enough to nudge Josh behind him.
“Your Honor, we plead guilty to the speeding ticket. My client was in the wrong, but as this is his first offense in this matter, we throw ourselves on the mercy of the court. As to the second charge, we respectfully disagree with Officer Hawks’s, er—” he glanced dismissively at Violet before continuing “—rendition of the encounter. We believe Officer Hawks, who was in the area on another assignment from ILPD, acted unprofessionally. We plead not guilty on the charge of resisting arrest, Your Honor.”
“Your Honor,” Violet interrupted as she reached in her back pocket and pulled out Sheriff Amswell’s smartphone. “May it please the court, I have a video, recorded by Indian Lake County Deputy Sheriff Douglas Amswell at the scene of the ticketing incident and the threat that was made to me by the defendant.”
Though she didn’t look at him, she heard a muffled groan from Josh. Paul Saylor took a half step forward. “Your Honor, I object. Counsel was not informed of this evidence. I request this video not be admissible.”
Judge Lewis’s eyes tracked to Pa
ul Saylor. “So noted.” She lifted her hand to Violet. “Officer Hawks...”
Violet stepped forward and handed the smartphone to the bailiff, who gave it to the judge.
Judge Lewis played the scene. Violet could hear the dialogue. She knew Josh and his attorney could hear it, as well.
“Your Honor,” Paul began. “I wish—”
Judge Lewis cut him off. “Objection overruled.”
Before Violet could process what was happening, the judge passed her ruling. She fined Josh one thousand dollars, the limit of the law for speeding, and another three thousand dollars and forty hours of community service for a misdemeanor resisting arrest charge. The misdemeanor would remain on record. Judge Lewis banged her gavel and called the next case.
Violet walked to the far left of the courtroom where the bailiff handed her the phone. She thanked him and went over to Amswell.
“Thanks for your help, Deputy.”
“Call me Doug,” he said. “You did great for your first time in court.”
She looked over at the group of cops and deputy sheriffs who were making their way to the door. She could tell by their smiles that they didn’t care if Josh had been found guilty; they wanted to meet their racing hero face-to-face.
“Yeah? I don’t think it’s going to help my career in the least.”
Doug whispered, “Let’s hope Chief Williams isn’t a racing fan.”
Violet cringed as she and Doug walked out of the courtroom.
In the vestibule, Josh was crowded by fans, cops, deputy sheriffs and kids all wanting pictures and autographs.
Paul Saylor noticed her, eased away from Josh and the crowd, and walked toward her. He was a handsome man in his mid-fifties. He wore an impeccable suit, the kind she’d only seen on Austin McCreary.
Probably has the same tailor, she thought.
“Officer Hawks.”
“Mr. Saylor.” Violet braced herself.
Paul put his hands in his pockets. “This isn’t going to go away. But I guess you know that.”
“You mean you’ll appeal,” she offered.
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