“Jon, are you all right? I saw the footage. It’s already up. Sarah said the guy grabbed her? That part wasn’t visible in what I saw, but…is she OK?” Remi quick-fired questions without waiting for his response in her usual excited fashion.
“As good as she can be,” he answered. “They’re arresting me and taking me over to the pacific station. Did you get a hold of Jim’s office?”
“Yep. He can meet us there within the hour. You and I have some talking to do when I get there, though.”
Just what he needed: another person lecturing him. “Get in line, Remi.” There was nothing he could do now to change what was already done. “I’ll see you in a bit.” He hung up the phone and spotted Sarah standing at the edge of the room.
“Sam is giving his statement,” announced Sarah. “I guess…I’m next.” Her eyes motioned to the room they were in previously.
“Are you going to be all right? I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with. I can probably stay while you give your statement. Just for moral support,” he stated, touching her shoulder.
She shook her head. “I can handle it. Let’s just get it done, so we can get out of here.”
Jon looked to the lieutenant and said, “So…”
The lieutenant motioned for him to stand next to him. “Do you have any needles or illicit drugs on your person?” Jon shook his head. “Please pull out the contents of your pockets and set them on this table before Officer Stewart pats you down.”
“I don’t have anything but these in my pocket,” answered Jon as he set his license and credit card on the table.
As the younger officer put on gloves and patted down every surface of Jon’s body, he knew Sarah could see the humiliation on his face. He hardened his expression, pretending it was just a roll he was playing. He didn’t want her to worry. When the officer was finished patting him down, he physically checked Jon’s pockets himself and asked Jon to remove his shoes. After the search the lieutenant called out to the officers in the open bureau and announced they would be leaving. The officers on the phones ended their calls one by one and rose to join Jon’s exit entourage. “We’ll be exiting to an unmarked car out front. There is already press out there, but we have it under control,” announced the lieutenant.
“Where’s the groper? He is getting arrested too?” questioned Jon.
“He left for the ER about twenty minutes ago, but he’ll meet us at the station once he’s had medical attention. He is definitely under arrest, and so is his accomplice.”
Satisfied with this, Jon said, “I’m ready.” He looked over his shoulder at Sarah, needing to know if she would be OK. The corners of her lips turned up, but he could tell it was a mask put on to placate him. This was not fair to her. She didn’t deserve any of this. He mouthed, “Stay safe,” as the mass of officers with him in the middle started to move down the hallway.
Chapter Sixteen
Sarah
SARAH WATCHED AS the mob disappeared down the hall. She looked around the almost-empty office and sat down in the chair outside the room Sam was in. She hoped Jon would be all right. He looked so humiliated. She couldn’t believe this was happening to them. She and Jon had put up with so much already.
Who was leaking their personal information? It was as if the mob had been waiting specifically for them. When they got out of the car, she swore someone said, “It’s them.” Could Chase still be stalking Megan’s phone? She knew how manipulative he could be. He probably convinced Megan it wasn’t him, and he’s still using her phone to track her messages. She would have to be more careful about the information she shared with her friends—all of them. None of them thought anything wrong of sharing information between each other. They had all been so close that it was never a problem before. She turned her phone over in her hand. The thought of calling one of her friends sickened her. She could listen to music and try to drown out the day’s events, but she wasn’t really in the mood to crank up the tunes. She opened her screen, clicked on the Mad Moronic Monkeys app, and started to build a tower of monkeys. Twenty minutes later when she had moved up five levels, Sam came out of the room laughing and joking with the female officer who was taking his statement.
“That just doesn’t sound like Marshall. I can’t even imagine him doing that,” the officer chuckled.
“You’ll have to ask him about the hula skirt. He was quite the dancer ten years ago,” declared Sam. He looked puzzled at Sarah and asked, “They left you out here by yourself?” He scowled at the officer. “Let’s get your statement done and get out of here. You head in and tell her what happened. I’ll call Craig and Raul. I won’t go anywhere,” he stated.
Sarah went into the room with the officer and left Sam to make the calls. The female officer started by asking her if she would like something to drink. Sarah wasn’t thirsty, but the officer brought her a glass of water anyway. She told Sarah they could go as slowly as she needed. She didn’t want Sarah to feel uncomfortable. The officer was acting like Sarah had been raped. It surprised her. She had been more upset about Jon getting arrested and about missing their flight than the guy touching her. Truthfully it wasn’t the first time some guy she didn’t know groped her. She’d gone to enough parties in high school and college to know what to expect from the male species when it’s drunk. She was always able to brush it off before, but the more she talked to the officer, the angrier and more disgraced she felt. This guy wasn’t drunk. She couldn’t believe he could fondle her and then broadcast movies of it all over the world for everyone to see. How dare he?
Sarah shared every detail she remembered with the officer. She told the woman how the paparazzo weaseled his way between her and Sam, and how she felt like he had targeted her because it would get the biggest reaction from Jon. She told her about the sneer on the man’s face as he reached for her breast. Sarah clinically described exactly how he touched her and the proud expression on his face as he looked toward his buddy afterward. She described how she feared the guy was reaching for her other breast when Jon hit him. She didn’t understand why her eyes were welling up, but they were. By the time she finished her statement, the tears were dripping down her face.
The officer handed her a box of tissue and placed her hand on Sarah’s shoulder. “I’m not usually like this,” Sarah admitted as she blotted under her eyes.
“It’s understandable, Sarah. This was not your fault. You need to put the blame on Mr. Davis. He’s the one who planned this and did this to you. You were just trying to get to your flight,” proclaimed the officer. “You’re going to be just fine,” she smiled encouragingly at Sarah with the most sincere eyes and touched her shoulder again. Then she stood up and crossed the room to open the door. “Mr. Kachinske, we’re done in here. Is your ride on its way?”
“Yes. They should be here soon. I told them to pull into the bay,” Sam admitted. Sarah spotted him in the doorway and quickly wiped her eyes again.
Sam looked at her questioningly. “Sarah, are you all right?”
“Don’t tell Jon,” she pleaded as she tucked the tissue into her jean pocket. “It wasn’t his fault and he would just blame himself.”
“I won’t mention it to him. He’ll be fine, you know. He’s been dealing with the paparazzi a long time,” Sam stated.
She looked up at him with a forced smile and proclaimed, “I know.” She took a fresh tissue from the box and wiped her eyes one last time.
“Sarah, I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you today.”
“There were just too many of them, Sam. No one could.”
“So, you won’t mind if Craig and Raul come to Minnesota with us?”
She shook her head. “Not after today.” She looked up to see Raul’s face staring back at her from the doorway. His black hair was buzzed short on the sides with longer curls in an oval shape on the top of his head, like he had forgotten to remove his hat during his haircut.
“Rough day?” Raul asked in his “I’m here to cheer you up” voice.
Sarah nodded and stood up. The men carried all the bags out to the car. As Sarah waited, she found just the right song on her phone for her parade past the press.
But by the time the men returned, Sarah was crying again. She didn’t know what was wrong with her. Sam snagged a box of Kleenex off a desk as they passed it and handed it to her.
“I won’t let this happen again, Sarah. I am so sorry,” Sam apologized again. “Let’s wait a few minutes before we head out into the crowd.”
He grabbed the baseball cap off Craig’s buzzed head and placed it onto Sarah’s head. She pulled it down, shielding her eyes.
“Ready?” asked Sam before, he, Craig, Raul, and several police officers escorted Sarah to the waiting car.
Chapter Seventeen
Jonathan
AT THE POLICE STATION, the blond female officer pressed Jonathan’s fingers against the scanner pads, her touch gentle but firm. One by one, she turned them to get a complete print until all the spots were filled on the computer screen. When she was satisfied with the fingerprints, the officer smiled at Jonathan and said, “Stay right here. I’m going to get you some ice for your hand. You’re obviously in pain.”
As she made her way out of the room, Jon could hear the two male officers at the back of the room gossiping loudly about the blonde, who had beat out three other female officers for the right to process him. “Akins picked the number that was closest to the one chosen by the lieutenant,” one announced.
She glared at the chatty men as she returned with an ice pack. She cracked the pack to activate it and folded it over Jonathan’s knuckles. “Is that better?”
Jon nodded. It did help.
“Mug shots are up next,” she added. “Just in case you want to fix your hat hair.”
“Thanks for the warning,” Jonathan stated with a smile. He removed his hat and bent over, shaking his hair out. He ran his fingers through, trying to erase a day’s worth of hat-wearing from his hair’s memory. He thought about all the other celebrity mug shots he had seen. He didn’t want to look as disheveled as them. If his picture was going to be on the cover of every magazine, at least he would look decent. “Do I look all right?” he asked in a self-deprecating tone.
“Yes…You look great,” she answered with a dreamy smile. Then she handed him a numbered card and showed him the X to stand on. He handed her the ice pack as he walked to his mark, then rotated to face her and held the numbered card against his chest.
“Higher,” she called. Jon inched it up closer to his chin. “Right there,” Officer Akins commanded. Jon held still for the flash. “Turn to your right, please,” her voice called again. He turned. “Now, to your left.” He turned the other direction. When the pictures were done, the officer stated, “Your lawyer is waiting for you, Mr. Williams.”
“Call me Jon.” He smiled at her and winked. “And thanks for the ice pack.” He knew how to work his charm to get others to like him, and right now he could use all the support he could muster.
She smiled and led him through a hallway into a small room. In the room sat his publicist, with her dark, razor-cut hair sticking out in all directions, and Jim Nordstrom, celebrity lawyer, in a gray Armani sports coat. They greeted each other and sat down. Jon had known Liam’s dad since high school and had worked with Jim many times before on little problems. Jim knew celebrity issues—one of the best lawyers in Hollywood.
“Did they treat you all right, Jon?” asked Remi. Jon nodded as the officer closed the door. “How many times have I told you not to punch them,” she scolded mockingly, and Jon chuckled. It was Remi’s catchphrase. Whenever he left on a trip, she would always tell him, “Don’t punch any paparazzi.”
“He grabbed Sarah’s breast. I’m supposed to let that go?” Jon questioned, looking at Jim as he leaned forward in his chair and wrapped his knuckles with the ice pack again.
“Is she all right?” asked Remi with sincere concern.
“She was crying…but I think she’s OK.”
“Remi showed me the footage,” stated Jim.
“I had everyone in the office scour for it, but couldn’t find the right angle—nothing showing the guy grabbing Sarah,” disclosed Remi.
“We’ll keep looking. More is bound to come out. Why don’t you just tell me in your words what happened, and I will let you know if you need to change any wording for your statement,” Jim declared. So Jon told them the entire story, and Mr. Nordstrom advised him on a few better word choices to emphasize Jon’s desperate need to stop the man. “That’s just the right amount of emotion. Show them how frustrated you were, but don’t let it choke you up, or it could come off as forced or acting.”
Jon ran through his story again with the changes. He felt like he was learning lines for a film and the director had just tweaked the script.
Obviously feeling confident, Jon had his lines down after the third run-through, Remi asked, “So you and Sarah did or did not tie the knot? Did you elope?”
“No. Why?” He pulled the ice pack off his hand, letting his knuckles warm.
“So, why did you call her your wife? It was clearly articulated on the video,” announced Remi.
“I did?” He tried to remember. “I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking. It was instinct. I think of her as my wife.” Jon began to rage again, thinking about the baby-faced guy. “Seriously, who the hell does he think he is, touching her like that? I should have pummeled him unrecognizable,” he roared.
“I think you made your point, Jon. There is no need to disfigure him in front of the cameras,” declared Remi. “It wouldn’t be good for your image, but now the press mistakenly thinks you’re married.”
Jim spoke up, “So…I can tell Tyren that there is still a chance she can get you to sign a prenup? She asked me to remind you as I walked out of the office today.” Tyren, a lawyer in Jim’s firm, specialized in marital contracts. She was also a close friend of Jon’s agent, and Jon knew Isaac was the one pushing to get a prenuptial signed.
“I’ve already told her I don’t want one,” he clarified. “Isaac is just going to have to let it go.” He was getting frustrated with Isaac and really didn’t have the patience to talk about this right now.
“Prenups are smart, Jon. A man with your means needs one,” Jim added.
“Jim, can we just address today’s problems. How is me calling Sarah my wife going to affect anything?”
“Well…you calling her your wife made this little story about a celebrity punching a paparazzo into a worldwide phenomenon. The phones have been buzzing off the hook at the office. Everyone wants to know about the wedding. The media is mad that you got married and they didn’t get any pictures. Teenage girls are crying on YouTube. The press is determined to find out every missed detail. You’re already trending at number four on the Internet. By ten you’ll be number one,” bragged Remi.
“So, I just made our paparazzi problem even worse?” he exclaimed. “They’re going to be hunting us more than ever. Damn it. I can’t seem to do anything right lately. Sarah’s going to miss her graduation because of me.”
“We’ll figure something out. We have to get you out of here first. Are you ready to give your statement?” Remi asked.
“Yeah…I’m ready, but…what do we do about the molester? We can’t just let him get away with that. Even if the charges are dropped against me, I want that guy to fry,” Jon declared. He knew if the guy didn’t get prosecuted, then someone else might try the same act or even worse.
“You’re right. We have to jump on that right away. I’ve already worked up some ideas on it. We will definitely file both a criminal and a civil assault claim, and I think we should file for a restraining order on both of them. It will help emphasize how dangerous you think they are and help you with your case. I’ll make sure we have everything needed.”
“I don’t want them anywhere near us,” Jon affirmed, shaking his head. “Let’s get this over with.”
Jim got up and opened the door. Officer Aki
ns was standing outside, and Jim motioned they were ready. The officer entered holding a laptop and a camera on a tripod. She stated that she would be recording the statement while he spoke. Jim took out a similar recording device and set it on the table next to the officer’s. Jon gave his statement. Then the officer asked additional questions, and Jon answered them the best he could. When they were finished, the officer stated, “You need to wait here until the bail hearing. I’ll be outside the door if you need me.”
“I’ll go see what I can do to expedite this,” stated Jim as he got up and left the room.
Three hours later, Jon had finally been released and he and Sam were pulling into the parking lot of the hotel where Sarah was hiding out. They had stopped to pick up some burgers and drinks. Remi would meet them in about an hour. She wanted to talk some more about damage control.
Sarah was lying on her stomach on the king-sized bed, looking adorable when Jon stepped into the hotel room. Her hair was wet, as if she had showered, and she was wearing one of his vintage T-shirts. She looked so sweet that it just added to his guilt about the day. Her face lit up when he entered the room, and she rose to greet him. Jon wrapped his arms around her and pressed his body to hers. She was his release. She’d always been. She was the reason he got up in the morning, the reason he lived. Ever since he’d met her, she’d been that for him. He didn’t want her to be tortured by his life, but he couldn’t live without her.
Craig peeked through the doorway of the adjoining room, just as a bomb blast detonated on the TV in the other room. Jon lifted his chin to acknowledge Craig, and he disappeared back behind the doorway.
He kissed the top of Sarah’s head. “Are you all right?”
Between the Lies (Between the Raindrops #2) Page 16
