Tempted By The Badge. Deborah Fletcher Mello

She’d called David Locklear a liar and had been unapologetic about doing so. She hadn’t been at all concerned about the optics, insisting that the truth would prevail and redeem her. In her mind, if the kid was willing to tell such a blatant lie, then he would have to accept the consequences of his actions.

      The prosecution had already offered them a deal, believing their case against her was a slam dunk. Believing a guilty plea and short prison sentence would alleviate the embarrassment of a trial. Thinking that Joanna wouldn’t want to put herself, or her alleged underage lover, through the trauma.

      But something about the beautiful woman told Mingus she wouldn’t hesitate to get on the witness stand to tell the world her truth. In fact, he’d be willing to wager Joanna Barnes would have no issues trudging to hell and back to prove her innocence. She was ready to battle and something about her had him wanting to get into the fight and go to bat for her. If he’d had any doubts about her innocence, her own actions had dismissed them summarily. Mingus could only hope that the teenage boy was prepared for the war that was coming.

      He refilled his glass from the bottle on the end table by his elbow and took another slow sip. He knew sleep wouldn’t couldn’t come any time soon. He needed to put a plan together, to figure out his next steps. But for reasons he couldn’t begin to explain, he couldn’t stop wondering what the exquisite history teacher might feel like in his arms.

      * * *

       “Classroom to the courtroom! A teacher is facing sex abuse charges involving one of her teenage students. Good morning, everyone, and thank you for joining us this morning at seven. I’m Mark Miller and this is ABC7 Chicago.”

      The anchor sat in the news studio, his expression smug as he shuffled a stack of papers on the desk and gazed into the camera. Joanna saw her mug shot suddenly appeared in high definition across the television screen as the newscaster continued.

       “The teacher in trouble is twenty-nine-year-old Joanna Barnes, accused of having an inappropriate relationship with a seventeen-year-old male student. That teacher is the third, and the only woman, from the local high schools to be charged with a sex crime in the last eight months. The ABC7 team’s Leanne Garner is reporting from Riptide High School.”

      There was a shot of the high school as the students entered the building, the newscaster standing on the sidewalk. Leanne was young, wearing a vibrant blue dress that flattered her petite frame. She spoke with an air of confidence, like she’d scored the story of the year. “Mark, news of the teacher’s arrest has spread pretty fast and caused jaws to drop. The parents and students we talked to were shocked by the allegations.”

      The camera flashed on someone’s father and a student Joanna didn’t know.

      “She seemed so nice,” said one.

      “I’m in shock!” said the other.

      The newscaster continued. “As the allegations involved a minor, school officials here at Riptide High contacted the Illinois Department of Children and Family Services and Chicago police. Per a statement issued by Christopher Munn, Chicago Public Schools superintendent, the teacher in question has been removed and termination is pending.

       “We wanted to know what the district is doing to ensure students are safe. The superintendent stressed the primary concern is always the protection of students, adding the district is taking the necessary steps to ensure the security of every child.”

      Leanne concluded, “This case is still very early in the legal process, but according to the Chicago police and the arrest report, Ms. Barnes has denied the charges. Efforts to reach her for a statement have been unsuccessful.”

      Joanna depressed the off button on her television remote, the room spiraling into silence. Rising from the bed, she moved to stand in front of the full-length mirror, staring at her reflection. She no longer recognized the woman looking back at her. Just twenty-four hours earlier she’d been contemplating a cruise to Cuba for the summer break or perhaps traveling to Italy instead for a holiday fling with a handsome stranger. Just one day ago she didn’t have a care in the world, her biggest concern being whether to repaint the master bathroom finch yellow or the dull beige her mother wanted.

      Today the reflection staring back at her wasn’t sure if her holiday vacation would include a stint in a maximum security prison with her name on the state’s sex offenders registry, or worse, the unemployment line, her teaching license forever terminated.

      The bathroom was never going to be finished and life felt everything but carefree. What she did know for certain was that, for her, the school year was done and finished, and she might never be able to step foot into another classroom. Just the thought made her want to start crying again.

      Joanna hung her head, her shoulders rolling forward as she felt as if she was suddenly struggling with the weight of the world. She’d risen early, having barely slept. She had tossed and turned for hours, despite her best efforts to rest. Having always been in full control of her life, she was suddenly out of control, someone else pulling her strings and intent on ruining her.

      She took a deep breath. She was angry, frustration fueling rising rage. Mingus had been right. Had she been able to get to David Locklear, she would have probably been in handcuffs for murder because she really wanted to strangle the boy.

      David Locklear had been a promising student, though slightly lazy and often distracted. He’d been raised by a single mother, his father having disappeared before his birth. His mother had been a stern disciplinarian and, for all intents and purposes, he’d been raised well. But he could be troublesome, using his teenage antics to impress his peers, no matter the consequences.

      The attention Joanna had given the kid hadn’t been any more or any less than she’d given any of her other students. She had offered to tutor him when he was struggling. Had disciplined him when necessary. Had often reached out to his mother to keep her abreast of his progress and she’d advocated for him when others had been ready to write him off. He’d excelled, his grades better than average, and Joanna had been ecstatic for him when he’d been accepted to college. His accusations made no sense and she had no clue what had motivated his lies or what proof had been given to justify her being charged.

      The smell of fresh coffee suddenly assaulted her senses and she realized she desperately needed a cup, maybe even two, if she had any hope of getting through the day. Pots and pans were rattling in her kitchen and she whispered a silent prayer of gratitude for Simone. The two women had talked for hours. Simone had made her laugh and had let her cry. There had been no judgment and the woman’s calming presence had been exactly what she’d needed to keep from losing her mind. Shortly after midnight Simone had retired to the guest bedroom and Joanna had been grateful to have someone else there with her in her home.

      Joanna moved toward the door, swinging it open eagerly. She headed down the short length of hall to the kitchen. Her eyes widened in surprise when she found Simone’s brother Mingus standing room center, a foam container of eggs in one hand and a stick of butter in the other.

      He gave her a nod of his head as her gaze met his. “Good morning.”

      “Hey! Good morning! I was expecting to find Simone in here making all that noise.”

      “She had to leave. She has a trial starting today and needed to get to her office to prepare. She said to tell you that she will call and check on you later.” He turned to the stove, resting the eggs beside a glass bowl on the counter. He threw a glance over his shoulder, deliberately eyeing her from head to toe. A slight smirk crossed his face, something carnal seeping from his eyes.

      The moment was intensely awkward as Joanna suddenly realized she was standing there in sheer panties and a tank top, her bathrobe forgotten in the bedroom. The attire hid very little, all her goodies on full display. She cussed as she spun on her heels and hurried back in the other direction. Behind her, she could hear Mingus chuckling softly.

      * * *

      Minutes later Mingus could hear her in the other room, still muttering under her breath. Her reaction had