Authors: Shannon Dianne
The chief and the former ambassador to the UK, Malcolm’s father.
The chief and another former ambassador to the UK, Malcolm’s grandfather.
The chief and the Mayor of Cambridge, Jacob’s father.
The chief and a United States senator, Cadence Blair, Malcolm’s older brother.
The chief and the Mayor of Boston, the father of Adam, Jacob’s brother-in-law.
The chief and the provost at Harvard University, Elise Rouge, Malcolm’s mother-in-law.
The chief and a Massachusetts state representative, Adam, Jacob’s brother-in-law.
The chief and the President of the United States, Carlo Rossi, Malcolm’s client.
The Chief and a four star general in the United States Army, Landon Yates, Jacob’s father-in-law.
The Chief and the head attorney of New England’s largest black owned law firm, Jackson Rouge, Malcolm’s father-in-law.
Do you see where I’m going with this?
“I just would like to say,” Marlon says, breaking the long silence, “that I take part of the blame for-”
“Marlon, shut the hell up,” I say to him. First, there could be audio cameras in here. Second, I’m about to lose my job. A senator gets arrested for disorderly contact in the newborn wing of a hospital as he assaults the President of the United States’ son-in-law? Are you fucking kidding me? I run my hand over my face. I don’t know what the hell I walked my ass into.
“Gentlemen,” the baritone voice breaks into the room and Marlon, Jon and I turn to see the chief of police walking in. He’s a big black guy, tall, ripped, most likely in his fifties. He singlehandedly runs the police force of one of the nation’s largest cities. If I wasn’t so pissed right now, I’d ask for his autograph. We all begin to stand to greet the chief. We make it halfway up. “Sit.” Asses in midair, we slide back down. “My daughter has a play at her school tonight and I need to help her read her lines.” He walks and sits behind a massive oak desk, places a pair of black readers on and instantly begins punching something into his office computer. Most likely trying to locate our arrest records.
“Alright. So we’ve got you three for disorderly contact, assault and battery of a government official, assault and battery of private citizens…hmm, you three were on a roll…and endangerment of twenty-one minor children.” He takes his glasses off, sets them on the desk and then looks at us. A series of paternal stares shoot from him as he glances at the three of us. “Brothas. What the hell is your problem?” And I do believe, as the chief addresses us on a personal level that denotes our shared lineage and history, Jon, Marlon and my rage turn into relief and regret. “Kyles, you own the largest real estate firm in the city. St. James, you run the largest tech firm in the state. And Westlake, you’re a damn senator. So again, I ask: What the hell are you doing in here?”
And, like three kids who got caught fighting in the schoolyard and are currently sitting in the principal’s office, we say nothing.
The clock ticks on the wall.
“Long story, Chief,” Marlon finally says.
“I’m listening.”
“With all due respect, I’m not sure if you’re bi-partisan enough to hear this story.”
“I’m no Uncle Tom, Kyles. Spit it out.”
I like this Chief.
“Confidential?”
“Of course.”
“One of the Blairs is having an affair with my wife.”
“Jacob?”
Damn.
“I’d rather not say.”
“Listen, I think we all know that Jacob’s the rascal of the Blairs. And, just so you know, he was the one who pressed charges against the three of you. And he was the one who asked for protection. So are we talking about Jacob?”
He needed protection! Are you fucking kidding me!
“Yes, sir.”
“Hmm. St. James, why are you here?”
“Protecting myself,” Jon says. “Jacob charged at me. I hit him first. Nothing but self-defense, sir.”
“Why did he charge at you?”
“No idea, sir.”
“Does the night of January 13
th
ring a bell?” The chief leans back in his chair and looks at Jon. Marlon and I, confused, turn to stare at Jon as well.
“I, um, I’m not sure-”
“Son, knock it off.” The chief takes a deep breath. “Jacob and his wife, Gwyneth were in their home when someone came and knocked on their door. They went to answer and saw someone standing there. There was a verbal and physical altercation and then the police were called…by you.”
Wait, a minute…what happened?
“You reported Jacob, Malcolm and Gwyneth to the cops but the audio tape reveals there was a fourth person. Who was it?”
“No idea,” Jon says without hesitation.
“No?”
Jon pauses.
“No, sir,” he eventually says.
“Funny, you had just ridden the elevator with the fourth person before you got off at your floor. You waited about five minutes and then took the steps to Jacob’s floor. I’ve been shown the security cameras from your condo building. You were seen looking out of the door’s stairwell, right towards Jacob’s front door. That’s when you called the police. So again, I ask you, who was the fourth person?”
Jon locks eyes with the chief. He says nothing.
“I admire your loyalty, Jon.” The chief looks at Marlon. “It was your wife, Kyle
s
.” You know, I’ve always heard of a face ‘crumbling’ and I never knew what that meant. Cookies crumble, faces don’t…that is until today. The life drains out of Marlon’s face as he stares at the chief. “Marlon, I have records that show your wife making an obsessive amount of phone calls to Jacob Blair leading up to that incident.” He points at Jon. “I have security videos of her knocking on Blair’s front door, after the obsessive amount of phone calls and text messages. I have him asking her to leave. I have her refusing to do so. I have her being attacked by Gwyneth Blair. I see her face was scratched and lip busted in the altercation.” Marlon’s breathing shudders at that last statement, his eyes haven’t even blinked yet. “I’m not here to embarrass you, son, I needed to know this information in order to okay the requests to have agents at the hospital today. I just don’t send them off willy-nilly. I saw the evidence pertaining to your wife, and the evidence pertaining to Jon along with the camera footage from a bar where your wife showed up after the incident at Jacob’s home. I saw the fight that ensued between Jon and Malcolm at this bar. I have the audio that verifies your wife talking to Dena March, lying about the night’s event. Drastically changing them from what the cameras revealed. Ruining her credibility. Making me question her motives. In light of all that I felt Malcolm and Jacob requesting security today was justified. And you all have proven me right.” He shakes his head at us. “Shame. When I heard there were three brothas involved, I was almost sad to hear it.”
Okay, so let’s summarize here: Marlon called me up to Boston and got me in some shit that his wife and Jon started? And now I’m about to be kicked out of the senate because of it? I run my hands over my face. I hear Marlon’s breathing pick up beside me. Jon is sitting like a statue. He never told Marlon that it was Jasmine who was instigating contact with Jacob. Obsessed. That’s what the chief called her.
“Chief.” We all turn to the sound of a man’s voice. There in the doorway, appearing more meek and remorseful than he has ever appeared in his life, is Jacob Blair. Shoulders hunched, a lopsided shirt, collar halfway up, halfway down. Disheveled. He’s full of shit. “I was told to come to your office, sir.”
“Yes, about…”
“Matthew Beauvais. But I can come at a later time, sir. I don’t want to interrupt you.”
“No. Come have a seat, please.” Jacob follows orders and walks into the office, his eyes scanning Marlon, Jon and me. He’s got equal beef with all three of us. He takes a seat in a leather chair near the couches that the three of us are seated on. He winks
at us
. “Jacob.”
“Yes, sir.” He snaps back into somberness.
“We’re not acting shy here, okay? I’ve told Marlon that his wife is harassing you. I’ve also told Jon that we know he’s the one who called the cops on you and your wife. So I’m not going to pussyfoot around this conversation with you. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Now, Jacob, you’ve been suspected of having an affair with another man’s wife. Is that what you told me yesterday?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Have you had an affair with Jasmine Kyles?”
“No, sir.”
“He’s lying,” Marlon says. He eyes are boring holes into Jacob. Jacob’s looking directly at the chief. “There’s no way Jasmine would get obsessive over a man if she didn’t have the need to.”
“Jacob?” The chief said.
“I’m not having an affair with Jasmine,” Jacob says to the Chief. “Jasmine confirms that during several conversations to Dena March. I believe you have the audio.”
“Mrs. Kyles has no credibility, Jacob. She also told Mrs. March that she knew nothing about the police being called on your and your wife. And we all know now that she was the very reason why they were called in the first place.”
“Chief, I’m not having an affair with Jasmine.”
“But you were with her last night, right?” Marlon says as he begins inching onto the edge of the couch. “Right? You were with my wife last night.”
“No, I was with
my
wife last night. But she left the bar before me to help Danielle through her labor pains. I was already in a town car on my way home when your wife slid into the seat next to me. And honestly, for the first time in my life I think I was scared. It all happened so fast.”
“You’re a fucking liar!”
“Ask the chauffeur, Chief,” Jacob says, ignoring Marlon.
“Like he’ll tell the truth!” Marlon screams. “He’s probably working for you!”
“He’s not my personal driver, he was hired,” Jacob says calmly to the chief. “It would be of no benefit for him to lie for me.”
“Oh no?” Marlon says.
“And if you don’t believe me or the chauffeur, then ask the limo company for their video footage. Hired cabs and town cars are all equipped with cameras.” And with that statement, Marlon slowly sinks back into the couch. Jasmine’s the guilty party here. The chief looks at Marlon. “Listen you guys,” Jacob says as he looks around at Jon, Marlon and me. “I just want this nightmare to be over.”
This son-of-a-bitch.
“I’ll get the footage,” the chief says. Marlon’s eyes are now staring blankly at a wall, glazing over. “Write the name of the company here, Jacob.” He tosses Jacob a pad and pen.
“Yes, sir,” Jacob says as he begins scribbling down on it. “Because we need to get this settled.” He’s the victim here. Completely helpless. Scared even. “I’m just not a happy camper these days.”
“So,” the chief says, “I wanted you all in here to avoid court and a judge and a record. All four of you would create a media windstorm if this got out, and frankly, I don’t need the trouble. I don’t need my men breaking into the computer system trying to find your files to release to the press. I don’t need to hold a conference on this and interrupt
The Young and the Restless
. I just don’t need any of it. So let’s deal with this like men, shall we?”
“Yes, sir,” Jacob says as he slides the pen and pad back over to the chief. “The sooner you help us solve this, the better. I just want to feel like I can live again.”
“Jacob, cut it out. I’m not buying the scared act.” Jacob gives the chief a boyish grin. “Your record’s so thick, I step on it to clean my gutters.”
“Aww, you’re just saying that.”
“St. James,” the Chief says as he looks at Jon. “I’m hoping that from now on you’ll allow the private matters of people to remain private. And if you
are
truly concerned about the welfare of someone, I hope next time you’ll be completely honest and state all parties involved so that justice can be administered accurately and without bias. Because given your history with the Blairs, I believe your actions were done through malice. Am I correct?” He looks at Jon and waits for an answer but Jon says nothing. “Just as I thought. Mr. Kyles, I would like for you to stop harassing Jacob Blair.” He then points to me. “And this is harassment, bringing his ex-wife’s former boyfriend here. And before you say you had no intention of harassing Jacob with Senator Westlake, given what you’ve said here today and how concerned you are that your wife is seeing Jacob Blair, I’m inclined to believe Jacob’s story that you’re attempting to harass or potentially blackmail him and his wife. Seems very likely.”
“Senator Westlake is my private attorney, Chief,” Marlon says, his voice low, barely audible. “He was just here to-”
“I do hope that this moment, right now, will stop a potential tragic order of events,” the chief says, cutting Marlon off. Marlon looks at the wall, his breathing deep, his jaw clenched.
“Good. Now as far as your mug shots, fingerprints and charges, they won’t be released. As soon as they’re processed, they’ll be placed in my care. For now.” He leans back in his chair. “All three of you have been warned. You’ve all avoided a media circus and a career collapse this time around.” He eyes Marlon, Jon and me, waiting for a response. The three of us have stepped right into the trap laid out for us. As an attorney, I know firsthand that there’s nothing better than grabbing somebody by the balls…legally. There’s no he said/she said here. Jacob, Malcolm and Nat have proof: videos, audio recordings, witnesses—legal proof—that Marlon, Jon, Jasmine and I have infringed on their rights. Proof that destroys are credibility, and makes us look like blackmailers, stalkers and liars. They have enough evidence and charges on me to send me packing from the senate. They have enough charges on Jon, Jasmine and Marlon to put a dent in their businesses and reputations. They’ve got all four of us by the balls. God,
please
give me a break here.
Please
.