Page 101 of Searching for Valor

“Hang on,” Mateo said, nodding at the TV mounted on the wall in the living room. He grabbed the remote and turned up the volume. “It’s about Stroud.”

The room fell quiet as everyone turned to watch the press conference. On screen, Nicolas Stroud stood behind a podium, his polished smile gleaming under the cameras’ glare. Behind him, banners celebrated the new partnership between QuenTech Bionics and Stroud Dynamics. The words “Revolutionary Myoelectric Prosthetics” were emblazoned across the screen.

“Thank you all for being here,” Stroud began, his tone oozing charm. “This partnership marks a new era in prosthetics, where technology meets humanity to?—”

Suddenly, a ripple of commotion spread through the audience. Stroud faltered, his smile flickering as a line of FBI agents strode into view. Gasps filled the room as the lead agent stepped forward, flashing a badge.

Callahan’s old partner, now sporting a sling to immobilize the shoulder that Callahan’s wild shot had hit.

“Nicolas Stroud,” he said, his voice clear and authoritative, “you are under arrest for conspiracy, fraud, human trafficking...”

The list went on and on.

Diego let out a low whistle. “Ooo, Tucker Quentin looks pissed.”

Sure enough, the camera panned to QuenTech’s CEO, Tucker Quentin, whose expression could have melted steel. His jaw clenched as he turned sharply and walked offstage, leaving Stroud to face the growing chaos alone.

“Well,” Sofia said, leaning forward with a grin, “that partnership didn’t last long.”

“I hope it doesn’t delay things too much.” Lucia, always the nurse, glanced across the table at Rylan’s arm. “That arm really is revolutionary. It could help a lot of people.”

“Nah.” Diego waved a hand and plucked a tamale from the plate in the middle of the table. “I bet Quentin already has people lining up to take Stroud’s place.”

“Okay, TV off!” Mamá chided and ushered her oldest son back to the table. Just as she was about to take her seat, the doorbell rang. She popped right back to her feet to open it.

“Oh! Sheriff Rawlings! What a pleasant surprise.”

“Sorry to crash the party,” Ash said, holding up a bottle of wine. “Rose wanted me to bring you this.” However, he appeared somewhat befuddled as to why.

“Oh, how sweet. Come in, come in. I’m so glad that nasty business with the Attorney General was settled. I’ll tell you, I amnotvoting for that awful man in the next election. Where is that beautiful wife of yours anyway? She should’ve come, too.”

Ash looked like he’d been hit by a truck as Mamá ushered him inside, his eyes wide and slightly panicked. “Uh, I’m not actually here to stay?—”

“Nonsense! Call Rose and tell her to come for dinner. We have more than enough!”

Izzy decided to take pity on him and intercepted her mother before she could shove Ash into a chair and stuff him full of tamales. “I actually asked Ash to come by, Mamá. We have some work stuff to discuss. We won’t be long, I promise.”

Mamá narrowed her eyes, looking between them suspiciously. “Work, hmm? On a Friday night?”

“Just a quick meeting,” Izzy assured her. “We’ll be right back.”

“Marisol?” Rylan called, appearing in the foyer with a plate heaped with tortilla chips and dip. “I know my Ma is going to beg me for this dip recipe when I tell her about it. Any chance I can charm you into giving it to me?”

Mamá’s face lit up as she turned toward him.

“Oh, of course, mijo!” she said as she patted Rylan’s cheek. “Come with me to the kitchen, and I’ll write it down for you. It’s a family secret, passed down from my abuela, but for you, I’ll make an exception. And you must tell me more about your mother. I’m sure she’s a wonderful woman…”

Rylan winked over his shoulder as Mamá all but dragged him back toward the kitchen.

“Thank you,” Izzy mouthed. She grabbed Ash’s arm and steered him down the hall to her mother’s craft room, closing the double doors behind them.

Ash let out a sigh of relief and set the wine bottle on the desk. “Thanks for the rescue,” he said, running a hand over his beard. “Your mom is…”

“Terrifying?” she suggested.

“I was going to say intense, but yeah.” A small smile cracked his hard face. “Terrifying works, too.” His gaze drifted to the glass doors of the study. From this angle, they could see the kitchen island where Rylan stood, chatting with her mother. “He’s handling her like a pro.”

She shrugged. “Rylan’s good with people. He knows how to put them at ease.”

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