1
Terry Bunswick rubbed his eyes and pushed back from his desk, the afternoon sun streaming through the blinds of his Eastern Shore Drug Task Force office. The stack of case files seemed to multiply when he wasn't looking, but after twelve years in law enforcement, he'd learned to pace himself through the endless paperwork.
His phone rang, interrupting his review of a trafficking case from the Virginia Beach corridor. "Captain Bunswick."
"Captain, this is Sandra O'Neill from Chesapeake Legal Aid." The voice was professional but warm, with a slight huskiness that immediately caught his attention. "I'm calling about the Johnson family eviction case. I believe you arrested someone at their apartment complex last month?"
Terry leaned back in his chair, trying to place the name. Legal Aid attorneys’ civil cases occasionally crossed paths with his drug cases, but he couldn’t recall the specifics. "Refresh my memory."
"A man named Derek Masterson was caught dealing drugs. He listed his residence as the Johnsons’ apartment. He occasionally slept there since he was a distant cousin of Mr. Johnson, who was always trying to help him. Now, the landlordis trying to evict the Johnsons even though they had no knowledge of his activities and immediately cooperated with your investigation. Plus, no drugs were ever in their residence.”
"Right, I remember now." Terry pulled up the file on his computer and scanned the details. The Johnsons had been genuinely shocked to discover their relative was dealing. "Elderly couple, been living there for fifteen years. Cooperated completely when we interviewed them."
"Exactly. They're good people caught in a bad situation." Sandra's voice carried the kind of passionate advocacy Terry recognized in attorneys who actually cared about their clients. "I'm hoping you might be willing to provide testimony about their cooperation and lack of involvement."
Terry found himself nodding even though she couldn't see him. "Absolutely. They were forthcoming during our investigation. Made our job easier, actually."
"Oh, thank God." The relief in her voice was palpable, and Terry heard her release a long breath. "I wasn't sure if you'd be able to help, but this could make all the difference for them."
"Would you like me to come to your office, or would you prefer to meet here?"
"I'd be happy to come to you if that's more convenient."
Terry glanced at his watch. Three thirty, and his day was winding down. "I could come your way, actually. Legal Aid is over by Bess's Bakery, right? I need to stop there anyway."
"You don't have to make a special trip?—"
"It's not special. I promised my kids I'd bring home something sweet today, and Bess makes the best chocolate chip cookies on the Shore." He found himself smiling at the thought of Emma’s and Toby's faces when he walked in with the familiar bakery box.
"Well, in that case, I'd appreciate it. I'm free for the next hour."
"See you in twenty minutes."
Terry gathered his keys and shut down his computer, his mind already shifting to the Johnson case. He'd worked enough eviction-related drug cases to know that innocent families often got punished for crimes they didn't commit. If he could help prevent that, it was time well spent.
The drive to the Legal Aid office took him through the heart of the Eastern Shore's small-town landscape, past weathered farmhouses, fields of early spring corn, and the occasional roadside stand selling fresh produce. The radio murmured with routine dispatch calls, the kind of ordinary law enforcement chatter that had become the soundtrack to his daily life.
Chesapeake Legal Aid occupied a modest storefront in a strip mall that had seen better days. Besides Bess’s Bakery, there was an insurance company and a hair salon. The proximity to the bakery meant the entire area smelled like fresh bread and cinnamon, a pleasant contrast to the sterile sheriff’s office where Terry usually conducted business.
He pushed through the glass door marked with simple black lettering and found himself in a small reception area with worn carpet and mismatched furniture that spoke of tight budgets and practical priorities. A middle-aged woman behind the reception desk looked up with a welcoming smile.
"You must be Captain Bunswick. I'm Portia Washington. Sandra's expecting you."
Before Terry could respond, a woman walked from the hall behind the reception area. Terry felt his breath catch as he took in Sandra O'Neill for the first time.
She was beautiful in a way that hit him like a physical blow. She smiled, and the warmth reached her entire face, making her brown eyes sparkle. She wore a simple blue blouse and black slacks, professional but not stuffy, and moved with the confident grace of someone comfortable in her own skin.
"Captain Bunswick, thank you so much for coming." She extended her hand, and when he shook it, her grip was firm and sure. "I really appreciate you taking the time."
"Terry, please." He found his voice, though it came out slightly rougher than usual. "And it's no problem at all."
He followed her into a small office that was organized chaos with legal files stacked neatly on every surface, a computer monitor surrounded by sticky notes, and a coffee mug that proclaimed "World's Okayest Lawyer" in faded letters. The single window overlooked the parking lot, where weeds grew between cracks in the asphalt along the side of the building, but Sandra had placed a small plant on the sill, adding a touch of life to the utilitarian space.
"Coffee? Water?" she offered, gesturing to a chair across from her desk.
"I'm good, thanks." Terry settled into the seat, trying to ignore how the afternoon light from the window accentuated the auburn highlights in her hair. "Tell me how I can help you." He realized he should have asked how to help the Johnson family, but staring at her, he’d simply blurted out helping her instead.
If Sandra thought his wording was unusual, she didn’t seem to mind. She opened a file folder and pulled out several documents, her movements efficient and purposeful. "The landlord, Marcus Webb, is claiming that they probably knew of Derek’s illegal activities and that they should be evicted for the safety of the community."
