Chapter 1

It was after two in the morning and Vicki Larson was feeling no pain as she flew down the highway at over eighty miles an hour. She ignored the speed limit signs as they changed from 50 to 40 to 30 miles per hour upon entering the small town of Buford. Her foot stayed smashed on the gas pedal in total disregard for her safety or that of any unlucky passerby. Yes, she had had too much to drink and shouldn't have been driving, but she had told her husband, James, she would be home by midnight. Already two hours late. He was going to be furious. This wasn't the first time she had come home late from a company business function. She had lost count of the number of times. It had become a major bone of contention between them. She knew he was beginning to suspect that she was having an affair, and although it wasn't true, she sometimes wished it were. Her love life, or what there was of it, had become boring. If James didn't want her, she knew she could have the pick of almost any man in her office. Yet she had resisted their attempts to entice into bed, as difficult as that had been. Although she and James got along pretty well, sex had become routine and far too infrequent. From her husband's subtle body language she believed he was bored as well. Unfortunately, they had never discussed it. It was obvious that James didn't have the same desire for her anymore. Maybe HE was having an affair, she thought, but why? She was only thirty-two and knew she still looked very good. She kept herself in shape and always dressed sexy—-maybe a little too sexy for the office though—-but James didn't seem to notice. Damn him! Suddenly, Vicky was awakened from her thoughts by the sound of a siren. She looked in the mirror and saw the flashing red and blue lights of a police car. "Shit!" she screamed pounding on the steering wheel in anger. She slowed the car, pulling to the curb. She sat with her hands on the wheel as she waited for the officer to approach ... she knew the routine. Unfortunately, it wasn't the first time she had been pulled over. She already had five tickets in just the past year for speeding. The last thing she needed was another ... especially with her having drank a few too many at the promotional party for her boss. She was startled when a black man, wearing civilian clothes opened the door of her car. She felt a bit of fear as he leaned over and said, "Ma am, would you mind stepping out of the car." Then she saw him flash open his badge. "Jamal Washington, Constable, City of Buford," the badge read. "Officer, I'm sorry. I didn't realize I was speeding." "Ma am, please step out of the car. I clocked you doing eighty in a thirty-mile an hour speed zone. You could have killed yourself or some innocent citizen of Buford," Jamal said seriously. He had a slight Jamaica accent. Vicky had no choice but to get out of the car. As she put her feet on the ground and stood up she swayed and leaned back against the door. "Ma'am, have you been drinking?" "Uh — well, just one or two." "Just one or two? Then you won't mind taking a Breathalyzer." "Listen officer, maybe we can work something out." Vicky was thinking along the lines of a few extra dollars, donated to the local police fund. "I — I already have a few tickets and would really rather avoid another." "So we can add attempted bribery to your DWI and speeding charges," Jamal said. "Wait here." With that he took her license and went back to his car, where he keyed in her driver's license number. "Wow," he said when he saw the five tickets for speeding. When he came back to the car, he saw Vicky still leaning against the car in a slightly distorted angle. "I'm going to have to take you back to the station, Mrs. Larson. You're in no condition to drive." "Mrs. Victoria Talbot-Larson — of the Talbot family over in Talbot County," Vicky said, trying to impress him with the well-known family name. "Doesn't matter who you are Mrs. Larson, you don't go eighty miles an hour in my town. Now are you going to get into my patrol car willingly or do I have to put cuffs on you." Suddenly Vicky was very frightened. She was going to jail. If money to the police fund wouldn't work, maybe she would have to officer something more immediate. With tears in her eyes she said, "Please Officer Washington, I'm sure we can come to some agreement," Vicky said in her sexiest voice. She pushed her chest out toward Jamal, trying to emphasize her large breast, which were somewhat hidden by the modestly cut bodice of her dress. She suddenly wished she had worn something a little more revealing. But then she saw what she though was a bit of interest in his eyes and was encouraged. Still he led her to the police car and made her get in. As he got into the drivers side, Vicky said, "Why don't you have on a uniform?" "I was off duty, coming home from a friend's party ... if that is any of your business ma'am." "I was just curious," Vicky answered in a huffy tone. Nevertheless she was relieved that he had given a reasonable explanation for being dressed as a civilian. She had heard of guys driving around with fake police ID's, pulling women over and raping them. When they arrived at the small combination jail/courthouse/city hall, in downtown Buford—Buford didn't need much of a jail since there were only five hundred citizens—-Jamal helped Vicky out of the car and up the steps. He led her into the police station and asked her to step into one of only two cells in the tiny jail and closed the door. Vicky's heart began thumping in her chest at the metal against medal sound of the cell door closing. It was sinking in that she had been arrested. What a scandal it was going to be if this got to the Talbot county newspaper. When Jamal had locked the door he looked at Vicky. "Now, do you know how much trouble you're in, Mrs. Larson?" asked Jamal, staring through the bars at her. Before she could answer he continued, "You're record shows five tickets with ten points. Your license will be suspended at twelve points. Driving while intoxicated is four points alone and bribing an officer can get you jail time."