Love, Lies & The D.A. (7 page)

“Jada.
How are you today? Better, I hope.”

“I
think I’ll be better when this is over.”

“I
thought you should know that the police have secured a search warrant for both
your penthouse and office.”

“I
guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Do you know what they are looking for?”

“A
weapon, documentation shared between you and Mr. Preston. One of my employees
has gone to oversee the search at your office. I am at your penthouse. I suggest
you allow your staff to leave during this process. They may try to interview
them. They are not bound to answer any questions that the officers may have.”

“Will
I know what they’ve confiscated?”

“Yes.
We will be taking a note of everything.”

“Okay.
Let me call Ian. You’ll be in touch later?”

“I
will.”

I
immediately call Ian with instructions. Bobby looks sadly at me. He can figure
out what is happening. After our not-so-relaxing tour, he warns me that if the
police know where I am, they may very well execute a search warrant here as
well. The only thing they could take that would bother, more so inconvenience
me is my laptop.

Once I
get to the house, I back up my entire laptop to a virtual storage site online.
So does Bobby. In the event they visit while he’s with me, they may confiscate
his as well.

I hate
the way this has interrupted his life. He has given up so much of his time for
me. In an attempt to show him how much I love and appreciate him, I make us
dinner, and we enjoy it on the terrace.

We
finish dinner, and while Bobby talks to Valencia, I clean the kitchen and pack
the dishwasher. Suddenly, out of nowhere, I remember…

“Oh my
God.”

My
loud outburst gets Bobby’s attention.

“What
is it?” he asks, covering the mouthpiece of the phone.

“I
just remembered. I deleted several emails from both Richard and Koto on
Friday.”

“What
did they say?”

“I
never read them. I didn’t even open them.”

“Val,
honey, let me call you back.”

He
immediately calls Charles after ending the call. They have a brief conversation,
and then he turns to me and says, “Those emails could have important
information in them.”

“Do
you know if we might be able to retrieve them?”

“I’ve
seen instances where they have, and I’ve seen instances where they haven’t.”

“Oh
God.” I take a deep breath and run to the counter for my phone. “Bobby, they’re
all here. I haven’t deleted anything off my phone.”

He
holds me by the shoulders, pulls me in his arms, and kisses me on my forehead.
I scroll through the messages, and there they are. I forward all of them to
Bobby and Charles. All the messages are variations of ‘I’m sorry.’ All but one.
However, for the life of me, I have absolutely no clue what it means.

To
:                   Jada McLean

From:               Richard
Preston

Date:                                Thursday,
19 September 2013, 8:45PM

I’m
sorry. That’s all I can say for now.

I get
the ‘I’m sorry’ part, but it’s the subject—that baffles me. I have absolutely
no clue what any of this means. Maybe it’s some type of code or account number.
It’s going to take a brain bigger than mine to figure this out.

Bobby’s
phone rings; it’s Charles. He puts the phone on speaker.

“They
didn’t take much from your penthouse, Jada, but the same can’t be said about
your office. Most of your staff has their computers, but they confiscated the
one in your office and your secretary’s. Do you have any clue what they might
be looking for?”

“No.
My taxes are paid. I run a legitimate business. I don’t even own a firearm… I
have no clue. It might have something to do with that last email from Richard.
But I really don’t know what that is in the subject.”

“When
the detective was leaving, he made a comment. ‘All this and it’s still not
enough.’ He seemed to be implying that you had Richard killed for money.”

“That’s
ludicrous. Don’t the police have to tell you what so-called evidence they
have?”

“Not
until they actually charge you with something. Until then, they can keep
whatever information they have to themselves. But I think, at this point, we
need to conduct a pre-file investigation.”

“What’s
that?”

“It’s
when your attorney represents you in an early stage of the investigation,
before formal charges are actually filed by a prosecutor. Much like what we’re
doing now. The point is to prevent the filing of any criminal charges against
you.”

“How
do you do that?” I ask.

“We do
research, investigate, and counsel you regarding the investigation. I have a
meeting with two of the best PI’s I know tomorrow. I will contact the police
early and try to intervene. I can also put legal pressure on them to avoid further
investigation and, often, redirect accusations, thereby informally resolving
the case by alternative means.”

Bobby
continues, “The key is to attempt to keep criminal charges from being filed. If
criminal prosecution is inevitable, it can assist you with a voluntary
surrender to avoid a public arrest and to assist you with arranging for bail so
that you do not remain in custody.”

“And
this is the best way to move forward?” I ask.

“Yes,”
Charles and Bobby chorus.

“Do
they know exactly when he was killed? I left San Francisco Thursday night.
Doesn’t that take me out of the equation? That email was sent from him after I
left San Francisco.”

“No.
Until we have a coroner’s report with an approximate time of death, we can’t
use that as your defense.”

“How
long will it take before that report is out?”

“It
can sometimes take several weeks.”

“Just
great. Do you know who the last person to see him was or who found him?”

“No.
They’re tight-lipped about everything. However, they’re under intense pressure
from the media. In the coming days, they may be forced to send out a press
release that might give us some clues or details of what they have. I think we’ve
done all we can do for now. Good thinking with those emails… We’ll be in touch
tomorrow.”

“Thanks,
Charles,” Bobby and I simultaneously reply then end the call.

“Big
Brother. Thank you for today. I think I’m going to head to bed.”

“Okay,
Sweetie.”

“Before
I turn in, can I get you anything?”

“Just
a hug.”

I wake
the
next morning to the smell of Bobby’s special omelet. My tummy grumbles as I
step out of bed.

I take
a quick shower, dress, and head out to see what he is up to.

“Good
morning,” he sings as he carries two plates over to the terrace.

“Hi. You’re
mighty chipper this morning. It’s a welcome change from all of the recent doom
and gloom, though.”

“Well,
Sis. I have something up my sleeve. A plan. I need you to help me,” he says,
holding my hand and ushering me to the table.

“Anything
for you. What?”

“Well,
I have some good news first. My case has been pushed to Monday afternoon, so I
can stay till Sunday evening if you like.”

“Yippee.
Won’t Val miss you?”

“She’s
on call this weekend at the hospital. That’s where you come in. I really wanted
you to meet her first, but I want to ask her to marry me.”

“Really?”
I feel intensely happy at that moment.

“Is
this too much for you right now?”

“No!”
I exclaim. “This is such a welcome distraction, you wouldn’t believe.”

“Great!
Well, if you’re up for it, I was thinking we could probably take a drive to
Reno, and you could help me pick a ring.”

“I’d
love to.”

“Does
it bother you that you haven’t met her?”

“No. I
can see how happy she makes you, and that’s really all that matters. All I care
about is your happiness. Mommy’s the one you need to worry about.”

“Well,
I was thinking since she’s off the next weekend, I could fly down for the
weekend, introduce her to Mom, and propose to her there.”

“Wow.
Mr. Romantic. That’s quite the change from the man-whore I remember.”

Within
an hour,
we take the magnificent scenic drive to Reno. Today is a
little on the chilly side, but over the mountains, not a cloud is in the
flawless skies. This place must be lovely when it snows. I hope I get to see it
that way before I have to head back to the catastrophe that awaits me in San
Francisco.

Suddenly,
it dawns on me that there will be a funeral soon, and I wonder if it’s an event
I should be a part of. Should I attend? Would I be welcome? In my heart of
hearts, when I saw Richard that last day and said goodbye, that was honestly my
goodbye. At that time, no part of me ever felt we would get back together. Even
if he were alive, I still would feel that way. However, him being dead,
especially under those circumstances and literally within days or hours, who
knows, of our breakup, I’m not sure what is expected or appropriate.

A
change of scenery snaps me back to the present. As we approach the city limits,
the scene has changed from lush green covered mountains to arid desert.

I’m
sure there are rattlesnakes here, uhhh.

We are
in Nevada. I’ve never been here before, so today is a new experience. One I am
happy to share with my brother. I am thankful for him. I enjoy being driven. I
love my car and I like driving it, but sometimes, especially with everything
that’s been on my mind of late, it’s nice to be chauffeured.

We are
now in the city. My brother can’t contain his excitement. I’ve never seen him
like this
—
he’s happy. From the GPS screen, it looks like
we’ll arrive at our destination shortly. Before I know it, he holds my hand as
if I’m a small child, and we cross the parking lot and enter the store. A sales
associate immediately makes eye contact and smiles as she approaches us.

“You
two look so in love,” she says.

I
laugh. “We’re in love alright, but the ring’s not for me. I’m his sister. I’m
here to help him pick one out.”

“Okay,
let me show you what we have.”

After
much discussion, and a healthy dent in Bobby’s bank account, we head to lunch. Then
we hit the road to return to Lake Tahoe. I’m so tired. Perhaps I should take a
nap.

I feel
Bobby
poking at me.

“Jada,
wake up.”

I
realize we’re at the house. The place is loaded with cops. They’re about to
burst through the door, but the sight of the car stops them, and all weapons
are now angled toward us.

An
officer approaches the car and opens my door.

“Jada
McLean?” he asks.

“Yes.”

“We
have a warrant to search these premises,” he says, handing me a paper.

I hand
it over to Bobby, and he looks at it, then at me, and gently nods. “They want
your laptop.”

“Please
don’t break through the door,” I say to the officer. “I’ll let you in. My
laptop is on the coffee table in the great room.”

I walk
from the car to the door; all eyes and weapons follow me. I feel strange.
Surreal might be the better word. I feel like I’m watching a movie, but I’m in
it. After I deactivate the alarm, the officers run through the house. There are
probably fifteen of them. Within twenty minutes, they are out. The house is
slightly disheveled but mostly unscathed. They take with them my laptop and my
writing pad.

All the
joy I felt for most of the day it gone. I call Charles to let him know once
they’ve left. He tells me that two private investigators have begun researching
my case. I guess now I sit and wait to see what they come up with.

Almost
immediately, we head back out to get my laptop replaced. Bobby tells me they
can hold it as evidence for as long as they want, so buying a new one seems
like the most practical thing to do.

When
we return home, Charles calls to let me know that Richard’s funeral is the next
day. I am still antsy about it. Up until now, Linda has not returned my call.
It could be because she’s busy dealing with stuff, it could because she hates
me, or there’s also the possibility that she never got my message. I think
about it for a while and decide I should take my cue on whether or not to
attend from her. I dial her number and nervously wait.    

“Hello,”
a woman answers. I think it’s her.

“Linda?”