Read Love, Lies & The D.A. Online

Authors: Rebecca Rohman

Love, Lies & The D.A. (34 page)

The
office is deadly silent; not a soul is in with the exception of the security
guard, who welcomes me in at the door. My all-white office looks the way I left
it but void of my PC, and the blinds are closed, blocking my bay view.

I
spend the morning perusing through occupancy reports for the various
properties, spend a little time online reading customer reviews, then follow up
with the individual property managers to touch base.

The
time for me to visit my properties for site inspections is close approaching,
and I’m hoping this case will be over by then. I need to get my life back to
normal.

It’s
about noon when I prepare to head back home. A photo of Jonathan catches my
attention as I close my open folders, and I can’t help but think about him… and
last night. I miss him. I wonder if he headed to Lake Tahoe for the rest of the
weekend or stayed here because of his mom’s health. I pull my
Johnnyphone
from my bag. I’m tempted to call him. I dial his number, but I can’t bring
myself to push the send button. I suppose that at some point, we have to talk
about last night, but it will have to be another time.

I head
out of the office and stop at the store on the way home to pick up a few
things. I am happy to go through these normal things unbothered or noticed by
anyone. Perhaps my Audrey Hepburn looking sunglasses helps to disguise my face.

As I
approach the turn to Jonathan’s house, I instinctively go in. The garage doors
have no glass, therefore it’s hard to tell if he’s home. Neither of his
vehicles are parked out on the street. In fact, no vehicles are on the street.
I park, and nervously, I head to the door and ring the doorbell. After the way
we parted last night, I don’t feel it’s appropriate for me to use my keys.

The
dogs don’t bark, but I can hear them sniffing. The door opens, and when Sophie
answers, I am speechless. She stands with a sinister smirk on her face, wearing
a formfitting red dress and patent black pumps. At the same time, Jonathan’s
coming down the staircase, bareback, hair wet, looking freshly showered, and he
slips a black T-shirt over his head. I feel the warmth drain from my body.

“Jonathan’s
not available,” she says. “We’ve had a very, very busy morning.”

I look
at him and quickly turn away, heading back to my car.

“What
the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I hear him shout, and before I know it, he
grabs my hand and tries to stop me.

“Jada,
wait.”

“You’re
busy,” I reply, pulling my hand away from his.

“This
is not what it looks like.”

“No?
Why
is
she
here?”

“She
had an accident. She’s just a friend.”

“What
nice manipulative friends you have. You know what? Don’t bother, Jonathan. It’s
none of my business. I’ll talk to you another time.”

“Jada,
please let me explain.”

“You
don’t owe me an explanation. Besides, we’re not
really
in a relationship, right?” My voice exudes sarcasm.

“Jada…”

“Get
away from me.”

I step
into the car and drive away. I’m not sure that I necessarily walked in on
anything, but what was she doing there in the first place? Is he still sleeping
with her? Did he lie to me? I want to trust him, but after the last few months,
it’s hard, even though, deep down, I don’t truly believe that anything was
going on. What was I supposed to do there, anyway? Go in and have tea and
crumpets with the two of them inside? I try to push the thought into the back
of my mind and concentrate on driving home.

What
was I thinking? Sex complicates everything. Perhaps when I get home, I need to
pack my things and disappear. I could use the tranquility of Big Sur.

 

It’s late evening
. Jonathan has called three times
since I left his house. I’m not ready to deal with him yet, so I ignore his
calls. My bags are packed in the car, and I’m about to start the ignition when
my
Johnnyphone
rings again.

“Hello,”
I answer.

“We
need to talk,” he says.

“I
told you, you don’t owe me an explanation,” I say aloofly.

“Yes,
I do.”

“Why?
You don’t owe me anything.”

“I
know what you’re doing… It’s not what you think. Sophie was involved in an
accident, and she called me for help. I got covered with mud trying to get her
out of a ditch. Before I went into town to drop her home, I wanted to shower
first.”

“Great.
Feel better now?”

“Jada,
please don’t be like this. Trust me. Please. She’s just a friend. It was over
months before I met you… it’s been nothing more.”

“You
have interesting taste in friends.”

“Well,
as of now that friendship is over.”

“Not
on account of me, I hope, and isn’t that what you said after she barged in on
you at Lake Tahoe?”

“I
did. But we were friends for years. I didn’t want to turn my back on her when
she called for help after an accident.”

“That’s
nice. Go back to her. Don’t allow me to interfere with your friendship.”

“Jada,
she tried to cause problems in our relationship. She knows how important you
are to me. I called her a taxi and sent her home and told her not to ever call
me again.”

“That
wasn’t necessary… You can be friends with whomever you want. You bare no
allegiance to me. Who you choose to see or fuck is completely your business.”

“Is
that what you think? After all we’ve been through together, don’t you
understand how I feel about you? I’m not interested in anyone else. I don’t
want anyone else in my life… Why can’t you see that?”

All my
fears and insecurities run through my mind. I’m so scared that I’ll get hurt
again. A part of me believes every word he says, the other part of me is
stagnated by fear.

“Jada,
I know he hurt you, and I know he screwed with your mind, but you have to trust
me.”

I feel
the burn in my eyes.

“Jonathan,
please be patient with me. I need some time. I’m going to Big Sur. I’ll call
you sometime during the week.”

“I don’t
want you going there alone.”

“Well,
it’s not up to you. Is it?”

“Jada,
please, it’s not safe for you to be there alone.”

I feel
guilty. I don’t want to be selfish. I don’t want him worrying about me.

“I won’t
be. The FBI is going with me,” I say softly.

“Is
there anything I can say to change your mind?”

“I’m
sorry. I don’t think so. After the last few months, I need some perspective,
and I don’t think I can get that here. I have to go. I’ll call you sometime.
Bye.”

I end
the call, and I’m about to back out of the parking spot when my regular phone
rings. I glance at the screen.

“Hi,
Ian.”

“Hey,
Jada. You’re in town?”

“For
now, yes. If you’re calling me on a Saturday night, there must be a problem.”

“There
is. Can we meet on Monday morning?”

“I was
just heading out of town. Can you tell me what this is about over the phone?”

“I’d
rather not.”

“Can
we meet somewhere tonight? Maybe you can come over to the penthouse.”

“I
would have, but I’m in San Diego with Michael at his family home for the
weekend.”

“Give
me some clue what this is about.”

“I
think we might be looking for a new property manager for our L.A. property
soon.”

“Just
great. Okay. I’ll be seeing you first thing Monday morning then. Enjoy the rest
of your weekend.”

I sigh,
ending the call. I guess that means I’m stuck here for the weekend.

 

It’s a
lovely
San Francisco morning, and I’m driving to work. Ten
minutes into my drive, as I approach an intersection, I hear screeching tires.
I have enough time to look to my right and all I see is a black truck heading
straight for me. I try to swerve, but it’s too late.

Chapter
11

 

 

 

 

 

 

All I
have time to do before I hear glass shatter and the sounds of crunching metal
is press the button on my necklace.

My
head is pounding, and my eyes feel so heavy, I can’t open them. I hear many
panicked voices. Then the sounds of sirens blare through the space, worsening
my headache. My mouth is dry. I feel parched, and I wish I had the energy to
say something, but I feel so weak. Too weak to open my eyes, too weak to open
my mouth.

I’m
scared. I wonder if I’m going to die. I’m not ready to die. I’ve never felt so
listless in my life. I still want more time with Jonathan, he means the world
to me, and I want the chance to tell him that… Mommy and Bobby. God, please let
me be okay. I feel so sleepy…

 

*     *     *

 

I’m
exhausted after a weekend with very little sleep. I enter the courtroom and my
cell phone vibrates. It’s Phillip. The judge walks in at that very moment, and
the bailiff calls the court to order. I ignore the call, but within minutes,
the phone vibrates again. This time it’s a text message. I scan the screen.

Jada’s
been involved in a nasty crash. She’s at SFMC. I think you should hurry.

I am
in such astonishment, the phone slips from my hand, making an explosive noise
as it falls to the floor below. The back cover and battery fall apart,
scattering across the terrazzo courtroom floor.

“Mr.
Kole, is there a problem?” the female judge asks.

“Your Honor,
may I approach?” I ask, quickly picking up the components and mounting them
together.

“Yes,
you may.”

After
explaining the situation, she adjourns the case, but I’ll have to find someone
to replace me. I rush out of the courtroom. On the way to the hospital, I call
Phillip.

“What
the hell happened?”

“She
was on her way to her office, and someone hit her at an intersection.”

“Is
she okay?”

“She
was unconscious when I got there. Her car is badly mangled. She was cut out of
the vehicle. Her right wrist looked broken. After seeing the front of the car,
I have no idea how her legs managed to be cut free.”

“So
she didn’t go to Big Sur this weekend?”

“She
got a call on Saturday night from her office and told me she’d leave this
morning after a meeting instead.”

“What
did the other driver have to say?”

Phillip
pauses. My skin turns to ice.

“It
was a hit and run accident.”

“Fuck!”

“Look,
Johnny. We’ll handle this. I’ll meet you at the hospital later.”

“Fine…
Phillip, please find who did this.”

“We’re
working on it.”

After
I end the call, I call Bobby to let him know, but his phone goes straight to
voice mail. I ask him to call me back immediately.

 

Thankfully,
being the
DA allows me special privileges. The doctors let me into
the ICU to see her. They won’t discuss her injuries with me, but she looks
pretty beaten up. Her wrist is in a cast, and she has a huge bruise at the side
of her head. She’s still comatose.

I sit
by her side. I hope and pray.

 

*     *     *

 

I feel
like I’ve been sleeping forever. It’s much quieter now, with the exception of
the beeping of a machine and what sounds like air being pressed into something.
I guess I’m in the hospital. Someone is holding my hand, maybe it’s Jonathan. I
think I smell his cologne.

“Jada,
be strong… please be strong, Sweetheart. Wake up,” he says.

I’m
sure it’s him. I can hear his supportive words. His voice seems so edgy and
worried. I want to let him know I can hear him. I try to open my eyes, but my
efforts seem futile. I want to squeeze his hand, but I try with no results. I
don’t want him to worry. I think I hear someone telling him he has to leave,
but I want him to stay. I wish they would let him stay. I feel tired again…

 

*     *     *

 

They
won’t allow me to stay with her while they run tests. I wish Bobby would call.
The wait and not knowing any details about what’s wrong with her is agonizing.
My phone rings. It’s Phillip.

“What’s
up?”

“We
found the vehicle that hit her. It was intentional. We found pictures of her
and her car inside.”

“Is
this some kind of sick joke? Who would want to hurt her?”

“It
could be that person that called and threatened her.”

“You
say that like it’s someone new.”

“She
didn’t tell you?”

“Tell
me what?”

“The
last day she was in Big Sur, someone called her and told her to watch her back
or she might end up six feet under. We were able to trace the number, but it
was from a prepaid phone that was purchased about five years ago. We found out
yesterday it was purchased with cash, so we will never know who actually owns
the phone.”

“Fuck!
Why didn’t she tell me about this?”

“Maybe
because you had just found out about your mom.”

“Shit.”

“Let
me get back to work and see what we were able to find on the street cameras.”

“Can
you make arrangements to have her room guarded? I don’t want whoever did this
to try to get to her in here.”

“I’ll
handle it. We’ll talk later.”

“Sure.”

My
phone has been ringing nonstop. I barely recognize any of the numbers. A great
number of them are reporters, so I know this will turn into another circus for
the networks.

By
late evening, Bobby calls. He can’t get a flight tonight. He will be here
sometime tomorrow.

 

*     *     *

 

“Sweetheart,
please, please open your eyes,” he says.

My
head still hurts so badly, and my eyes seem so heavy but I fight… and fight…
and eventually, I see his piercing greys. I try to keep them open, but the
fluorescent lights above are so bright, they hurt. I’m not sure where I am;
maybe I’m in my bedroom at home, but I’m not sure. This bed feels a little
strange.

“Jada,
can you hear me?”

“Yes,”
I whisper.

I try
to smile then I close my eyes. I feel so tired. I want to sleep.

 

I open
my
eyes.
It’s mostly dark, but there’s enough light for me to see Jonathan asleep on a
nearby sofa. I look around me. It looks like I’m in a hospital. My head still
hurts so badly, and my ears ring. I look down at my body, and I realize my
right wrist is in a cast, and my left ankle feels like it’s bandaged. I’m
thirsty, but there’s no water nearby. There are flowers everywhere. I clear my
throat. Jonathan opens his eyes.

Smiling,
he walks over to me.

“Hey,
Sweetheart. How do you feel?” he whispers, kissing my forehead.

“I’m
thirsty,” I murmur.

“I’m
so happy you’re awake,” he says, pressing a button on the remote then holding
my hand.

“What’s
wrong with me? What happened?”

“You’re
going to be okay. You were in a car accident.”

“My
head hurts.”

“You
hit your head pretty hard. You’ve been in and out of consciousness for a while.
Your wrist is broken, and some damage has been done to your ankle.”

I’m
overwhelmed by his presence. He’s here. I didn’t ask him to be here, yet he is.
I look into his eyes, and tears stream down the sides of my face.

“Don’t
cry, Baby. Everything’s going to be fine.”

“I’m
sorry about this weekend,” I whisper.

“I’m
sorry too, but I don’t want you worrying about that now. Just focus on getting
better.”

A
nurse enters the room.

“She’s
thirsty. Can she have some water, please?” Jonathan asks.

“I
have the worst headache I’ve ever had.”

I
realize my speech is slurred. I can’t get my words out as quickly as I’d like.

“Nice
to see you awake, Ms. McLean. A doctor will be here to check on you in a
moment. She’ll give you something for that headache,” she says then exits the
room.

“Thank
you for being here. Please tell Bobby not to worry.”

“He’ll
be here sometime tomorrow.”

“Please
stop him… it’s not necessary.”

“We
don’t need to discuss this now. I want you to get better.”

The
doctor comes in. She asks me some questions, checks some information on the
computer screen nearby, checks my vitals, and then injects some medication.

“Is she
going to be okay?” Jonathan asks.

“I’m
on call tonight. The doctor overseeing her case will be here in the morning. His
name is Dr. Dubois. For now, she’s stable.”

“Thanks,
Doc,” he replies as she exits the room.

The
nurse returns with some water and juice. After quickly consuming it, I close my
eyes once more and go back to bed.

 

Daylight
wakes me. After my eyes readjust to the light, I notice Jonathan asleep on the
chair beside me. His head lies on his folded arms on the bed’s edge, and one of
his hands covers mine. It doesn’t look like he’s left here. He still wears the
same black suit and royal blue shirt from yesterday.

A
nurse walks into the room with a breakfast tray in hand.

“Good
morning, Miss McLean,” she says quietly. “Feeling better this morning?”

“A
little. Thanks.”

“I
brought you some breakfast,” she says, adjusting the bed tray before me.

“Thanks.”

Jonathan
wakes beside me.

“Good
morning, Sir.”

“Hi,”
Jonathan replies.

“You
know you shouldn’t be here,” the nurse says sternly.

“Well,
I’m not leaving, so get used to it.”

“Don’t
force me to call security.”

“Go
ri—”

“Nurse,
please,” I interject. “I want him to stay.”

“He
wasn’t listed as your next of kin. Everyone else has been bending the rules
because he’s the DA.”

“I
know, but I want him to stay. He’s the closest thing I have to family.”

She
looks at me, then him.

“Please.
I have no family here in the state,” I plea.

“Fine,”
she says softly. A smile inches onto her face.

“One
more thing,” I say as she turns to leave. “Can I have another one of those
breakfast trays for him, please?”

She
looks annoyed at my request.

“Please…
you can add it to my bill.”

She
doesn’t respond but returns moments later with another tray and hands it to
him.

“Thank
you,” he says, flashing her a radiant smile. “I don’t suppose you are one of my
loyal supporters?”

She
returns his smile and leaves the room, not saying another word.

He
lays the tray on the bedside table and sits next to me at the edge of the bed.

“Do
you really want me here?” he asks.

“I do.
Thanks for staying last night.”

“I
wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

“When
was the last time you ate?”

“That’s
not important. All I care about right now is your safety, and your health.”

“Then
if you want me to feel better, please eat. You look like crap.”

“The
old Jada’s back,” he chuckles.

“After
you eat, why don’t you go home for a while? Take a shower… relax a little. I’ll
be okay.”

“No. I’m
not leaving you here alone.”

“I’ll
be fine.”

“That’s
completely out of the question. Now eat. You need your strength back.”

“I
know we have to talk,” I say, looking into his greys.

“That’s
true, but not now,” he whispers.

We eat
breakfast together, and soon after, I feel tired again and fall asleep. I’m not
sure how much time has gone by, but Jonathan’s voice rings through my vague
dreams.

“I
know you can’t tell me details, but is she going to be okay?” he asks.

“We
have every reason to believe she should make a full recovery.”

“Thank
you.”

I open
my eyes and see a sixty-something-year-old African American man talking to
Jonathan. He reminds me of my Aunt Jeannie’s husband, Uncle Ken. Fair in
complexion and slightly greyed with a well groomed goatee. He turns to me and
smiles.

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