Love, Lies & The D.A. (55 page)

Either
I’m a glutton for punishment or a higher power is trying to teach me a lesson.
A lesson I’m yet to learn. Why? Why did this happen? I am looking for a why.
Maybe there is no why. I’m not sure that any reason or explanation would give
me the answers I crave. Even if they did, what difference would it make? Daddy’s
gone, Koto is gone, and Jonathan was taken away.

I sit
and think for hours. By sunrise, I still have no answers, but the natural
beauty that surrounds me preoccupies my mind. Three jagged granite peaks topped
with snow and stunning blue glaciers in the distance replace my sad thoughts.
At this moment, I am in a better place, a place I hope that I can remain for at
least the rest of the day… or my stay.

Three
weeks in,
my mostly peaceful thoughts are disturbed when I receive
an email from Phillip telling me Giorgio Rossellini and the other henchman that
escaped were arrested two days after I left San Francisco.

I’ve
been avoiding thinking about my return to San Francisco. I’m in an environment
where there are no outright reminders of my previous life, and I’ve taken
comfort in that. However, I have to admit, I’m afraid to return. Honestly, I’m
not sure if I’m ready to face a life that I got used to—a life with Jonathan
Kole.

I
spend some months in Chile then decide that probably the best way to deal with
my fears is to confront them head on. In the time I’ve been here, apart from a
few short exchanges with the staff, I’ve spoken to no one.

I
still shed tears daily. To say that this has become easier would be a lie.
Perhaps returning to the office is what I need to do to move on. Nothing I’ve
tried to help me move forward from this ordeal has worked. I want to feel normal
again. If this continues much longer, I’m afraid I’ll go insane, and the fact
that I have to testify at this trial is prolonging my agony.

I
arrive in
San Francisco one month before the trial is due to begin.
Prosecutors prepare me on how to handle questions posed to me by the defense
attorneys. I am eager for this process to be over. Unfortunately, when this
trial is done, months down the line, I will be expected to testify at other
trials with the Chief of Police, Senator Rice, and all the other dirty cops
involved, not forgetting the man who actually kidnapped me. This has the
potential to be a constant in my life, at least for the next few years.

To
help pass the time on the weekends, I make and deliver food to the homeless in
Tenderloin. During that time, it’s hard to think about anything else other than
the people I serve and the stories they sometimes share with me.

I
purchased a building there, and I’m opening a center where the homeless and
addicts can come for a meal and also try to be rehabilitated and get their
lives back on track. I work with doctors, teachers, and counselors who donate
their time. We put programs in place where the homeless can find a trade, for
those who lack experience. For those who do have experience, we work with
companies in the Bay Area to get them placed in jobs.

In
many ways, it’s taken my mind off things. I spend much time there, so I won’t
have to think of the void inside me, and my own sadness, the way I do when I’m
home alone.

Days
before the
trial, I find out the defense has been relentlessly trying
to have some audio and videotape evidence thrown out. Actual video showing
Rossellini shooting a female FBI agent and Jonathan, who was wearing the
camera.

When
the judge rejects their plea on three separate occasions, I receive a call
saying that he has changed his plea to guilty. With this new change of events,
I am thankful that I won’t have to testify at
this
trial.

Days
later, I’m
at the office trying to focus on getting some work done.
Solace comes across on the intercom.

“Jada,
I’m sorry, I know you said you didn’t want to be bothered, but there’s a
Phillip Cross here to see you. He says it’s urgent.”

“Sure.
Let him in.”

Moments
later, he enters.

“Hi, I
thought you were already on your next assignment.”

“Not
yet.” He smiles sadly.

“What
brings you here?”

“I
still have some loose ends to wrap up in this case.”

“No
offense, but if I never have to deal with one more issue from the last few
months, it would make my life a hell of a lot easier. You must need something
from me or you wouldn’t be here.”

“Jada,
I need to talk to you. Please let me take you out to breakfast.”

I
stare at him. I’m still so angry with him. It’s like he’s a big fat reminder
that Jonathan’s gone. Deep down, I know this isn’t his fault, but I guess I
need someone to blame…

“Ta
lk.
What is it?” I say softly.

“Please.
Breakfast? I have somethings I’d like to share with you before I leave town.”

I
stare at him for a moment then finally relent. “Fine.”

He
opens the
door of the large black SUV parked next to my car.

We’ve
been driving for about fifteen minutes, and Phillip hasn’t said a word.

“Phillip,
where are we going?”

“I’m taking
you to an airstrip nearby. An aircraft is waiting for you.”

“I’m
going somewhere?”

“Jada,
I don’t know how else to tell you this, so I’ll just come out and say it.” He
hesitates.

“What
is it? You’re making me nervous…”

“Jonathan
is alive. He’s been in the witness protection program all this time.”

“What?”
I feel a mixture of emotions all at once
—
happiness,
confusion, fear, anger. I try to speak, but I can’t.

“I
couldn’t tell you sooner. I’m sorry.”

“Where
is he?”

“You’ll
find out when you get there. There’s a bag on the back seat. It has everything
you need. Once the plane lands, two agents will pick you up and take you to
him.”

I can’t
believe what I’m hearing.

“Is
this some sort of a sick joke?”

“I’m
dead serious.”

“How
long have you known?”

“Listen
to me, Jada. I’m taking a big enough risk doing this. It goes against
everything I’ve been taught. Please don’t ask me anymore questions,” he says as
we drive onto the small private runway. A plane waits.

I pull
the bag from the back seat and look through it.

“There’s
some clothing in there and some cash, along with everything else you need. You
need to leave your belongings with me.”

“Phillip—”

“It’s
either my way or not at all. You pick.”

“Fine.
But I have to make a call to my office. I have to let them know I won’t be
coming in.”

“That’s
fine.”

“And
Bobby. How long will I be gone for?”

“It
shouldn’t be longer than a week or two. Listen, you can’t say a word about any
of this. Not to anyone—not your brother, not Jonathan’s family, no one.”

“I get
it. Please, your phone.”

I hug
him tightly before getting onto the jet.

“I’m
sorry, and thank you.”

“Get
going. I’ll see you when you get back.”

A few
hours
later, I get off the plane that has landed on another
secluded runway strip. Two men are there to pick me up. Phillip showed me their
pictures, so I am able to recognize them easily, with no fear or apprehension.

We’ve
been driving for an hour, and still, I have no clue where I am or how much
longer it will be before we arrive at our destination. We’re in an extremely
remote area. Rolling hills and rugged snowcapped mountains in the distance
escort us throughout the drive. I think I’ve probably seen three or four homes
or structures on our drive all this time. It’s completely desolate.

My
palms are drenched and my stomach feels like it’s been turned upside down. It
still hasn’t sunk in. I’m in the middle of no man’s land with absolutely no
clue of where I am and where I’m going, with two men I know from absolutely
nowhere, and I still can’t believe that I’m going to be seeing Jonathan.

“How
soon will we arrive?” I ask the men.

“Another
half hour,” one replies.

A
while later, we turn onto a dirt road. We drive for another fifteen minutes,
through winding roads in extremely rugged terrain. We drive through the
wilderness, through a creek, and up heavily wooded hills. The use of a
four-wheel drive vehicle is necessary to get there.

It
looks like we might be nearing our destination. I see two cabins in the
distance poking through some trees at the top of the summit. The SUV finally
pulls up. It’s actually one house, but the two gables in the distance made it
appear to be two.

The
garage door opens like electronic gates. From the outside, they appear to be
bifold French doors. The vehicle halts, and the doors close behind us. The
garage appears to separate two living spaces. There are two entry doors, one on
either side.

“He’s
inside,” one of the men says. “You can go through those doors,” he says,
pointing to the doors to the left. Across the garage, to the opposite side, a
door leads to the other part of the building. One of the men goes there.

I’m
nervous. I can’t believe this is happening. I walk through the door that leads
into a kitchen and place my bag on the butcher-block countertop. The all-white,
small eat-in kitchen is spotless. A small sectional sofa surrounds the wood
burning stove, but still, as I pan the pine walls, he is not in sight.

I
carefully step inside. Neither of the men is with me. I suppose they both went
into the other side of the property. I see a small staircase leading upstairs,
and to my right are three doors. It suddenly occurs to me that Jonathan and I
are in the same house, and frantically I run, opening every closed door, so
eager to see his face.

“Jonathan…”
The first door, a bedroom—empty.

“Johnny…”
The second, a bathroom—empty. The tears flow from my eyes. I’m afraid that this
is not real.

“Jada?”
I hear his voice from upstairs.

Now I
know it’s real. He’s actually alive! I bolt from the second empty bedroom
below, frantically running up the stairs where we finally meet at the top.

There
he is.

He
folds me in his arms. I tie my arms and legs around him. I don’t ever want to
let go. There are no words between us—just sobbing. He finally leans back to
look at me, and I look directly into his piercing greys. Tears stream down his
cheeks too. He kisses me softly on my lips, then my cheeks, then my nose and
eyes and forehead… Pulling me into his body once more, our hearts explode
between us. I feel the overpowering thumping from his chest, and I’m sure he
can feel mine.

I
finally sigh and release. I think I’ve been holding my breath all these months,
hoping and praying that this would happen, and now it has. He’s here, in my
presence, healthy. He’s with me… and I’m with him. The sobs escape my mouth,
and I feel the sadness, the anxiety, and the fear that’s been inside me these
last few months slowly leaving my body.

He
takes me to his bed where we hold each other with not a millimeter of space
between us. All the familiar feelings I’ve craved are returning. The scent of
his aftershave, his fingers running through my hair, the look in his beautiful
grey eyes, and the soft kisses he continues to place all over my face.

“I
love you,” I whisper through my unceasing tears. “I’ve never loved anyone the
way I love you.”

“I
love you too, Baby,” he says softly, holding me tightly in his arms. “In a way
I have no other.”

I
guess there was a part of me that was still in disbelief, even though I was
praying for this to be true. Now, he’s here, and I see him before my eyes.
After all the months of pain, I am elated that he is alive.

He
pulls me close once more. My leg drapes over his body. His arms securely
circles around me. My arms attach to his, and we continue to lie in silence, in
each other, with each other.

On the
bedside table, I notice a few books, and a stack of San Francisco newspapers. I
suppose he’s been keeping track of what’s been going on. It feels like he may
have lost some weight. His hair is long and in a ponytail. I’m still in
disbelief that this is happening.

“I
miss you so much,” he whispers.

“I
miss you too. You have no idea how much…”

As we lie,
I realize there’s so much I want to know. I have so many questions, but at the
same time, I want this moment we share right now to last forever. As if he’s
reading my mind…