ruled. “Pay your fine.”
“Your Honor, please,” she beseeched him. “I had a good reason for speeding.” Which she had tried to tell Lieutenant Michalski, but he hadn’t cared.
“So now you were speeding, Ms. Howard? A minute ago you assured me you weren’t,” the judge reminded her.
“But…” She bit her lip and refrained from explaining that her mother’s car had broken down. As the lieutenant had said when she’d offered him the excuse, her mother should have called the Auto Club instead of Tessa.
But Tessa actually had been on the way to pick up her younger brother, Kevin, not her mother. Recognizing an unsympathetic listener, she hadn’t bothered explaining about her teenage brother and that if someone didn’t pick him up from high school, he would disappear for the night, getting into only God knew what trouble.
She doubted the court would be any more sympathetic than the police officer. And she doubted it was a good idea to mention her brother to the authorities at all, especially now. So far he had avoided getting into trouble with the law, and dealt just with school and her for tardiness and skipping classes.
“Yes, Ms. Howard?” the judge prodded her.
She released her lip and admitted, “If I get any more tickets on my record, the Secretary of State will pull my license.”
“Considering her driving record, losing her license would probably be a good thing,” the lieutenant commented, staring straight ahead.
“But if I lose my license, I’ll lose my job,” she said, as panic shortened her breath. “I can’t afford to lose my job…” For so many reasons. Hers wasn’t the only head over which she had to keep a roof.
“You should have considered that before you started speeding, Ms. Howard,” the judge remarked with no sympathy.
“May I make a suggestion, Your Honor?” the police officer asked.
The judge’s eyes narrowed warily, but then he nodded. “Of course you may, Lieutenant Michalski.”
“Maybe the citation, and the subsequent loss of her license, isn’t the most fitting punishment for Ms. Howard’s violation.”
“You gave me the ticket,” she whispered, sending him a glare, which she doubted he would see. But he had finally turned toward her, his gaze intent on her face. His eyes were green, with flecks of gold. With his black hair, she had figured they’d be brown or blue. She shook her head, disgusted that she had spent so much time—time she didn’t have to spare—thinking about his eyes.
“You have a more suitable punishment?” the judge asked him.
“More education than punishment,” the lieutenant alluded, “I think Ms. Howard could learn a lot about obeying speed limits and the law in general if she were to enroll in Lakewood Police Department’s Citizens’ Police Academy.”
The judge leaned back, a grin spreading across his face. “Interesting…”
“What—how?” she stammered, lifting her palms up. “I don’t even know what the Citizens’ Police Academy is. I don’t want to be a police officer.”
“It’s not the police academy,” the lieutenant assured her, grinning slightly as if he were amused. “It won’t make you a police officer, although some people enroll to see if they might want to pursue a career in law enforcement. It will help you understand police procedure—the how and why.”
Like why certain police officers were too rigid to let a driver off with just a warning? She bit her lip again so she wouldn’t ask the question. No sense antagonizing him when he seemed to be changing his mind about the ticket.
“It’s a great program,” the judge enthused. “The Lakewood PD Watch Commander, Lieutenant O’Donnell, has been putting it on for a few years to promote community involvement and relations. The chief and the city council have made certain there’s money in the budget for it, so there’s no charge for the public to participate. Some officers have been known to donate their time just to make certain it doesn’t go over budget.”
Did Lieutenant Michalski donate his time? Would he be part of the program?
“It sounds interesting,” she belatedly agreed with the judge to humor him. In truth, she didn’t have any interest in the program or Lieutenant Michalski.
“Then you’ll agree to enroll?”
“I would, but I have a job,” she reminded them. At least she did for now. “I can’t afford to miss any time from work.”
“The CPA meets only one night a week,” the lieutenant explained. “Wednesdays from six-thirty to ten for fifteen weeks.”
Tessa’s breath caught. Fifteen weeks. “I really—”
“Don’t have a choice if you want to keep your license,” the judge pointed out. “The ticket or the class, Ms. Howard?”
“The class,” she begrudgingly replied. Then she reminded herself what one more ticket would have cost her. “Thank you, Your Honor.”
“Don’t thank me,” the judge said, “It was the lieutenant’s idea.”
She turned toward her benefactor. “Thank you.”
While his jaw remained taut, his mouth unsmiling, his green eyes brightened—no doubt with more amusement at her expense, over the predicament she was in. “You’ll enjoy the class, Ms. Howard.”
“I doubt that.”
“I won’t be participating,” he assured her.
She smiled. “Then maybe I will…”
“YOU’RE GOING to have to participate,” the watch commander, Lieutenant Patrick O’Donnell, told Chad, his back to him as he climbed the steps to his office, the glass walls of which rose above the reception area where interns sat at the front desk, taking nonemergency calls and buzzing in visitors.
Chad followed him, protesting, “Paddy—”
“You’re the emergency vehicle operation instructor for the police department,” the commander pointed out, as he settled into the chair behind his counter-height, U-shaped desk, “as well as for the Lakewood University’s Police Academy.”
“Yeah, the police academy—”
“Now you’re the instructor for the citizens’ police academy, too,” Paddy said. His eyes, nearly the same reddish brown as his hair, crinkled at the corners as he grinned.
While they were both lieutenants, being watch commander gave Paddy more authority. He doled out assignments. Chad couldn’t turn one down—even though police participation in the program was supposed to be voluntary.
“Hey, you’ve been recruiting for the class,” Paddy reminded him, “You should help.”
Although Chad leaned against the doorjamb, he couldn’t relax—he hadn’t been able to since he’d first pulled over a black SUV driven by a
