A Woman of Valor, page 36
“I hate the idea,” she whispered, “of getting a medal for shooting a guy in the balls.”
“You’re the hero of every divorcée in town,” Shannon said, deadpan, and Val nearly laughed out loud.
She glanced away from the cameras and bright lights, and spotted one of the faces she most wanted to see: Antoinetta, standing with her mother, Rosa, in the rear of the room. Val grinned at the pair, and Antoinetta waved back. Okay. She’d accept the award for Antoinetta, and Kendra, and Ali, and all the women Harkins had terrorized. Let them see what it means for a woman to win.
Gibson stepped in front of her, holding a gold pin in his hand. Val braced herself: to fasten it to her uniform, he’d have to touch her, close to her chest. She held her breath and met his eyes.
Gibson smiled at her, handed her the pin, and shook her hand, then moved on and repeated the gesture with Jalen, Shannon, and the others.
Val sighed with relief. Of course protocol would demand a more discreet ritual, particularly in a sex abuse case!
The subsequent press conference went by in a blur. Gibson and Marshall answered questions from the media and kept their remarks brief, citing legal reasons for not providing more information. After Gibson thanked the attendees for coming, Val followed the others off the podium and headed straight for her brother.
Ten feet away, she stopped in her tracks. Behind Chad stood the gaunt figure of Michael Dawes, crammed into one of the dark suits he’d favored during his successful career as a manufacturing executive.
“Dad?” She blinked and cleared her throat, not knowing what else to do. “I—I didn’t expect you.”
Dad gave her a crinkly smile. “Chad invited me. Is that okay?”
She shot Chad a dark stare, took a breath, and smiled at her father. “Of course. I’m glad you came.”
His hug was unexpected, as was the aroma of musk and peppermint that permeated him. Usually he reeked of alcohol. Rehab must be working. Dad ended the embrace and held her hands in his. “I’m proud of you,” he said. “You did good.”
Val searched for words, her mouth dry. Nothing came.
“I need you to know,” he said. “I believe you. And I’m sorry. About...about everything. I just—”
“Dad,” she said, taking hold of his shaking hands, “I’m sorry too. We’ll talk later...alone. Okay?” She met his gaze, and the tears flowing down his cheeks nearly broke her heart.
But he nodded, and smiled, and stepped behind her brother, whose sudden embrace felt incredibly warm and reassuring.
***
Val had hoped Gil would have recovered enough to make it to the ceremony, but his doctors had refused to release him. Travis Blake drove her, Shannon, and Brenda to Mercy Hospital in a cruiser. Gibson drove another group over in a van for a planned late-morning award ceremony for Pops, still laid out in his own hospital bed. “I didn’t realize Pops was hurt that badly,” Shannon said on the drive over.
“He was, and he wasn’t,” Brenda said. “That .44 round is a beast, but it more or less grazed him—broke a rib and tore a lot of skin and muscle. No doubt it hurt like hell, but it wasn‘t life-threatening.”
“Enough for him to get medical disability,” Travis said. “Given how close he is to retirement, I doubt we’ll see him back in uniform. But you didn’t hear that from me.”
Val zoned out of the conversation, and after a few minutes, her phone buzzed. A message from Beth read, “Check it out!” with a link to a website. She tapped it, and her mouth opened wide in surprise.
One Scum Down, Thanks to Clayton Police Heroics
By Paul Peterson
Clayton Police have rid the city of a violent scumbag, a man single-handedly responsible for a regional crime wave of sexual assaults, police shootings, and other crimes.
Clayton P.D. officers shot the man after an armed standoff and a destructive chase through the city. Officer Alexander Papadopoulos, wounded in the assault, will be among those awarded today with medals of honor.
“Pops?” Val laughed. “He’s the hero?”
“What the hell prompted that remark?” Blake asked.
“Dawes is reading that trashy Clayton Copwatch blog again,” Shannon said, reading over her shoulder. All three of Val’s companions groaned. Val ignored them and scrolled farther down the page.
Papadopoulos had help in taking down Harkins. Readers of this site will note that we have been critical of a certain rookie policewoman for her reckless behavior that often put citizens and fellow officers at considerable risk. But sources indicate that in this instance, Valorie Dawes lived up to her family legacy and did the city a great service. For today, at least, Dawes performed the way a Clayton police officer should: with intelligence, bravery, and professionalism.
Val set the phone down and realized she’d been holding her breath the whole time she’d been reading. She exhaled, but the tightness in her chest wouldn’t subside.
“Geez,” Shannon said, still reading over her shoulder. “What’s gotten into Paul Peterson? That’s almost complimentary!”
Val smiled. She hated to admit it, but Peterson’s grudging praise pleased her.
The department borrowed a chapel in the hospital for the award ceremony, attended by a small gathering of officers and higher-ups. Moments before it began, orderlies rolled in another bed, occupied by a smiling Gil Kryzinski. He looked energetic and alert, his skin color back to normal. Elated, Val hurried over to stand next to him.
“I was coming to see you next!” she said in a hoarse whisper.
“You’d better,” he whispered back. He winked at her. “Nice medal.” She rolled her eyes.
Gibson kept the ceremony brief, and Pops made it official: in his thank-you speech, he announced his impending retirement. Alex’s wife Betty, a rotund, smiling woman with gray-flecked brown hair, beamed with pride at him. Afterwards, flanked by two bored teenagers who looked just like her, Betty pushed Pops in a wheelchair along the lineup of attendees for perfunctory handshakes, with Val and Gil at the end.
“Congratulations, Pops,” Val said after the briefest, limpest handshake of her life. She stammered, struggling for something to say. “And, um, thanks for your help in nailing Harkins. We couldn’t have done it without you.” Behind Pops, Shannon covered her surprised grin with both hands. Blake mugged and looked away with an embarrassed, toothless smile.
“Dawes,” Pops said, “I just wanna say, I’m glad I got to work with you. I know it wasn’t always easy.”
“I learned a lot from you,” she said. Like, never take crap from one’s partner, she added to herself. Gil fake-coughed and covered his mouth.
“Have they given you a new partner yet?” Pops asked.
“Not yet,” Gibson said, stepping toward them. “That might take a few days. I’ve already got a half-dozen requests for you, Dawes. How about we sort through those in my office, this afternoon?”
Val grinned so hard it hurt. “Lieutenant,” she said, “I wouldn’t miss that meeting for the world.”
***
Val accompanied Gil back to his hospital room while the others extended polite congratulations to Pops in the chapel. A nurse hooked him back up to the monitors and exited with promises of lunch within the hour.
“No meds?” Val asked, sitting in a chair beside the bed.
Gil grunted. “The doc cut me off so I don’t get addicted. I’m feeling much better, anyway. I’ll be out of here in a day or two and start rehab next week. Doctors say I’ll be walking, with assistance, soon after New Year’s.”
“That’s amazing!” Val said. “I’ll help any way I can. How about I show you the technique that won me gold in the 400-yard hurdles?”
Gil laughed. “You’re on. And when I come back to work, you can train me in self-defense, too.”
Val’s response caught in her throat. “When you...? Did you say—I thought—”
“What, that I’d follow Pops’ lead and take medical retirement?” Gil mock-frowned at her. “No way. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”
“But Jessica said—”
“Jessica doesn’t speak for me,” Gil said. “Nor do the doctors she conned. In fact, Jessica and I...well, safe to say, we’re back to ‘ex’ status.”
“Gil, that’s wonderful! Wait, not the ‘ex’ status part,” Val said, reddening. “I meant that you’re coming back. I can’t wait!”
“Which brings me to an important point.” He fixed her with a level gaze, all seriousness. “When you meet with Gibson later today, tell him the new partner assignment is interim. I want you back, Val.” He reached out and squeezed her hand.
Warmth flooded over her. “I want the same,” she said. A smile teased out of her. “Are you sure you can stomach being partnered with an Avenger-type of cop?” she asked.
Gil huffed. “Whoever called you that?” He pulled her closer with a firm grip. “Val, you’re a cop’s cop. Don’t let anyone ever tell you different.”
Her hand shook inside of his, and she wondered if she should pull away. Her heart pounded at the intimate touch, and his kind words. “But I—”
“Saved a lot of lives,” Gil said, “and, from what I heard from Petroni, you made sure your team members were safe before taking Harkins down. I couldn’t be prouder of you.”
She stared at him, her heart bursting. “That means so much,” she said. “All I’ve ever wanted was to be with you. As partners, I mean,” she said, and her face grew ridiculously warm.
Gil laughed. “I’ve never seen you turn to red,” he said with delight. Then, more seriously, he added, “To be honest, Val, it’s a verbal slip I could have made myself.”
Val’s spine seemed to melt, and her hand got clammy. Still, he held tight. “Gil,” she said, “are you saying...I mean, did you think I meant...what did you—”
“Just between us, I like you, Val,” he said. “In a...more than professional way.” He looked away, and his voice grew dry, catching in his throat. “I’ve thought a lot about this, and...it complicates things.”
She sighed and nodded. Took a deep breath, let it out slowly. “Gil,” she said, “we can’t be partners, and also see each other. For starters, it’s against policy.”
“Screw policy.” Gil's voice cracked. “We need to do what’s right for us. Both of us.” He returned his gaze to her, his eyes moist.
Val let out a slow, unsteady breath. “I agree. But Gil...we can’t. And we both know why.” She gripped his hand tighter. “While it’s tempting to want both, it never ends well.”
“So, we have to choose.” His eyes met hers again, pain evident in his face. “And I take it, you’ve already chosen.”
“I can only choose for me,” she said. “But if you feel differently, I’d like to know that.”
Gil stared at her for several seconds that felt like hours. “It’s a tough choice,” he said. “So, for me...” His voice trailed off, and he looked at her with a touch of sadness in his eyes. “If I must choose, I would never give up the opportunity to work with you. I respect you more than any other cop I’ve ever worked with.”
“Gil, that’s so...Wow. Thank you.” Val sat up straight again, and the frayed nerves and uncertainty flowed out of her: they had made the right choice. For both of them. “Likewise,” she said. “On all counts.”
They sat together for a long moment in silence, still holding hands. Holding hands! She realized with a start they hadn’t let go of each other the entire time. She was touching a man, and he was touching her, and it didn’t feel strange or painful or frightening.
It felt perfect.
Thank you
Thank you for reading A Woman of Valor. If you enjoyed reading it, won’t you please take a moment to leave me a review at your favorite retailer? And please, tell your friends!
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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
My father, Donald Corbin, first dreamed up the basic story of A Woman of Valor, and I loved it from the start. We completed the first rough draft together, but we weren’t able to get it into publishable shape before he lost his battle with lung cancer in 2006. It was only years later that I was able to get past the emotional wall that kept this project tucked away in a drawer for so long. I hope, Dad, that the result does you justice.
Several members of the Hartford Police Department assisted me in my background research for this book, and helped ground this fictional story in reality. In particular, Detective Buyak and Officers Mulroy, Kent, and King gave generously of their time, expertise, and personal perspectives, and I thank you all. A Woman of Valor would not have happened without you.
Many other friends, colleagues, and family members—too many to count or even remember—have contributed ideas, feedback, critique, encouragement, and love. I thank you all.
Special thanks goes out to Randal Houle, Rankin Johnson, Kate Kort, and Joe Walters, whose scene-by-scene critiques improved this story on a weekly basis.
Thanks also to my Beta Readers—Judith Bottorf, Sam Donavon, Danielle Faucheux, Richard Gray, Nicole Sherriffs, and Patsy Silk—who gave me invaluable late-in-the-game feedback.
No writer can survive without a great editor, and I have two. The keen eyes of Laura Lee Bennett and Patsy Silk caught many errors long after my own eyes glazed over. If errors remain, they are my fault, not theirs.
I can never give kudos enough to Steven Novak, whose creativity and patience with me once again yielded an amazing cover design.
Nobody contributed more to my writing career than my dear mother Patricia Corbin, who awakened in me the love of books and reading, and always encouraged my love of writing.
But most of all, thanks to Renée, the kindest, most patient, most beautiful person I’ve ever known, whose smile lights up the darkest night and brightens the sunniest day. Your support makes all of this possible. I love you.
Book Group Discussion Questions
Characters
1. What do you think of Valorie? What terms would you use to describe her?
2. Do you think you would like Val if you met her in person?
3. Which of the other police officers did you like? Which did you dislike? In each case, why?
4. What do you think happens between Val and Gil after the end of the story?
5. Do you think that the author – a middle-aged white male – portrayed Val, a young woman who struggles with her memories of abuse by older men — authentically and sympathetically?
Scenes and plot
6. Which scene or scenes stood out to you? Why?
7. Were you satisfied with the conclusion of the story? How would you describe the state of Val’s healing at the end of the book?
Personal connection
8. For the most part, what emotion(s) did the story evoke in you as a reader?
9. Did you identify with Valorie? Any other character? How did that affect your enjoyment of the book?
Writing
10. A Woman of Valor crosses genres, blending some character-driven aspects of literary fiction with the plot-driven aspects of police procedurals and crime novels. Did this work for you, as a reader?
11. If you could change something about the book what would it be and why?
12. Describe what you liked or disliked about the writer’s style.
General
13. Name your favorite thing overall about the book, and your least favorite.
14. At what point in the book did you decide if you liked it or not? What helped make this decision?
15. If someone asks you what this book is about, how would you answer them?
About The Author
Gary Corbin is a writer, actor, and playwright in Camas, WA, a suburb of Portland, OR. His creative and journalistic work has been published in BrainstormNW, the Portland Tribune, The Oregonian, and Global Envision, among others. His plays have enjoyed critical acclaim and have been produced on many Portland-area stages.
Gary is a member of the Willamette Writers Group, Nine Bridges Writers, the Northwest Editors Guild, PDX Playwrights, and the Bar Noir Writers Workshop, and participates in workshops and conferences in the Portland, Oregon area.
A homebrewer and home coffee roaster, Gary is a member of the Oregon Brew Crew and a BJCP National Beer Judge. He loves to ski, cook, and root for his beloved Patriots and Red Sox. And when that’s not enough, he escapes to the Oregon coast with his sweetheart.
Connect with Gary Corbin
Keep up to date with the latest (and sign up for advance notices of new books) at
http://www.garycorbinwriting.com
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Also by Gary Corbin
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In the small town of Clarkesville, in the heart of the Oregon Cascade Mountains, Lehigh Carter, a humble forester, stumbles into the complex world of crooked cops and power-hungry politicians...all because he rescues a stray, injured dog on the highway.
The Mountain Man’s Dog is a briskly told crime thriller loaded with equal parts suspense, romance, and light-hearted humor, pitting honor and loyalty against ruthless ambition and runaway greed in a town too small for anyone to get away with anything.
