Love, Lies & The D.A.

by Rohman, Rebecca

  We visit a restaurant Bobby picked out in the mountains. It has beautiful hillside views. We sit at an elegantly set table near the window. The afterglow from the setting sun has created an exquisite painting in hues of reds and yellows in the sky. It’s a lovely evening. The waiter comes by to take our drinks order, and as he disappears out of view, Jonathan stands in his place.

  “Hi,” he smiles.

  I feel a jack hammer go off in my chest.

  He steps towards me and kisses me on my cheek.

  “Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas to you too.”

  I guess I have to introduce him, or my mother will most definitely call me out for having bad manners if I don’t.

  “How are you?” I ask.

  “I walked in and saw you. Thought I’d come say hello.”

  “Okay, hello.” I blush. “Meet my mom—Cassandra, my brother—Bobby, and his fiancée—Val. Everyone, meet Jonathan Kole.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” he replies while shaking their hands.

  “Are you dining alone?” Bobby asks.

  I look at him in a what-difference-does-it-make sort of way.

  “As a matter of fact, I came to order some takeout,” Jonathan replies. “I just got in from San Francisco.”

  “Well, perhaps you’d like to join us?” Bobby asks.

  I attempt to kick Bobby under the table, but my shin meets the bar under the table instead, causing a loud thump and the table to vibrate. Bobby looks at me, grinning. I hear Jonathan responding that he’d love to. I can’t express the amount of pain I’m in. Bobby calls the waiter over and tells him we need another place setting and chair.

  Within minutes, Jonathan is sitting between my mother and me.

  He then turns his head over his shoulder and whispers, “That shin of yours doing okay under there?”

  I try to hide my embarrassment by smiling, but that’s a bit difficult when I can actually feel the heat rise all over my body.

  “Don’t start,” I retort.

  “So Jonathan, what do you do?” Bobby asks.

  I am so annoyed. I can tell this night is not going to get any easier as time goes by. My brother and Jonathan are going to have loads of fun at my expense.

  “I’m a criminal lawyer.”

  “So I’m I. Private practice?”

  “Do we really have to talk about work and all this nonsense today? It’s Christmas,” I interject.

  “Jay, we’re just trying to get to know your friend. That’s all,” Bobby replies. A sinister smirk crosses his lips.

  “Are you Jada’s lawyer?” Mommy asks.

  “No. His dad is,” I answer.

  “Do you work with your dad?” she continues.

  I sigh. I realize that this is getting me nowhere.

  “I used to,” Jonathan replies. “Now I’m a District Attorney.” Looking at Bobby, he asks, “Where do you practice?”

  “Miami.”

  “Am I going to have to sit here and listen to you law aficionados compare notes all night long?”

  “Jada. Be nice,” Mom scolds.

  The waiter arrives to take our order, and I hope that when he leaves, the conversation will change.

  It does. But—

  “So has Jada discussed her legal issues with you?” my mother asks.

  “Mom. No. His father knows what he’s doing.”

  “I’ll vouch for that,” Jonathan agrees.

  “Do you know the prosecutor that will preside over her case?” she continues.

  “He’s quite the shark from what I hear,” I reply. “But I haven’t been charged with anything yet. You’re getting ahead of yourself.”

  I am afraid that this conversation is getting dangerously close to discussing details of my case. I have a big problem doing that in front Jonathan, let alone in a restaurant. I look at Bobby, hoping he’ll help.

  “What made you switch from private practice to public servant?” Bobby asks.

  Thank God.

  “I wanted to make a difference. I wanted to serve.”

  “Wow… how noble of you,” I mutter under my breath.

  “If taking jabs at me makes you happy, be my guest. Go ahead,” he murmurs over his shoulder.

  “You’re making considerably less money though?” Bobby asks.

  “That’s true, but I made enough during private practice, and I’ve made wise investments. That’s my way of giving back.”

  “I’ve heard nightmare stories from DA’s on their workload.”

  “It’s bad. I get to work at six or seven every morning, and most times, I’ll be lucky if I leave by eight at night. I don’t work on weekends. I’ll work later during the week if I have to, but my weekends are mine.”

  “I feel sorry for your girlfriend,” I blurt out, a little louder than I intended.

  Everyone at the table glances over at me.

  “Well, I don’t have one. So that’s not a problem,” he says, gazing into my eyes.

  I’m staring back at him, and for a moment, I feel like I’m in a trance and it’s just him and me. I imagine his hand on my profile, and his lips leave tender impressions on my cheek, but this time, he trails kisses until he reaches my lips. The arrival of our food jolts me back to the present. Everyone is staring at us.

  I’m a little embarrassed, and the gaze and smile from both Bobby and my mom tells me that they were very aware of the moment between us.

  “So how long are you guys here?” Jonathan asks.

  “We leave for the airport once we’re done here,” Bobby replies.

  Jonathan looks over at me but doesn’t say anything. I know he’s wondering if there will be a repeat of the last time Bobby left.

  “That’s too bad. It would have been nice to have you all over to get to know you better.”

  “We’ll be back.” Bobby smiles.

  “Do you spend a lot of time here?” Val asks.

  “My second home is here. I leave San Francisco every second I get.”

  “Don’t you like it there?” Mommy continues.

  “I do. However, since becoming DA, it’s hard to have a private life. Or one where people don’t want to discuss cases everywhere they see me. I’m just another person here.”

  “I know the feeling. You should be careful. I was accosted by a reporter in town today at Café Rus.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m here. Bobby threatened him with a False Imprisonment suit.”

  “Nice going, Counselor,” he nods. “Do you know who the reporter was or where he was from?”

  “No,” I reply. “He didn’t identify himself. I can’t say where he’s from either, and I really wasn’t trying to carry on a conversation with him. He was creepy.”

  He looks concerned but doesn’t say anything further on the matter. We enjoy the rest of the evening talking about fun times we shared with Daddy before he died. For more than one reason, I don’t want tonight to end. I don’t want my family to leave, and I want to spend more time with him.

  Eventually, we call for the check. Jonathan pays the bill before any of us can get our hands on it. Everyone thanks him graciously then we all walk out together, but he and I lag behind the rest of the group.

  “Are you going to be okay this time?” he asks.

  “I think so. The circumstances now are very different from when Bobby last left. It was a rough time… you don’t get as attached after two days.”

  “I can come with you, if you like.”

  I so want to say yes, yes please be there, but I feel that I’d be setting myself up for some sort of heartbreaking disappointment in the end. I look at him and smile gratefully, but I never respond.

  We make our way to the car, and we all say our goodbyes. I notice him and Bobby exchanging cards and having a quiet chat with each other before he joins us in the vehicle. I start the car, backing carefully out of the space, and he waves and watches as I drive away.

  Within moments, my mother says,
“Young lady, you mind telling me what was going on at that table tonight?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I lie.

  “What’s going on between you and that young man?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You have a crush on him, don’t you? Any fool with eyes could feel the tension between you two. You like him.”

  “Mommy, I’m not having this conversation with you.”

  I want her to back off, but she seems determined.

  “Just by the way he looked at you, it’s obvious he likes you. I know Richard hurt you, but I don’t want you to allow what that man did to scar you for the rest of your life. You’re a gorgeous young woman. You deserve to be in a happy relationship. You’re not getting any younger.”

  “Well, even if that’s true, a happy relationship wouldn’t be with him. It would only end in disaster.”

  “Why? How can you be so sure about that?”

  “It just won’t.”

  “That’s not a legitimate reason. What’s going on? He seems like a nice young man. He had that spark in his eyes every time he looked at you… I’m certain you like him. Why won’t you give him a chance?”

  I am frustrated, and suddenly I hear myself spitting the words out.

  “Because he’s the shark District Attorney that would be presiding over my case.”

  The car goes silent.

  It’s not often I see or hear my mother speechless. All of a sudden, she bursts out laughing.

  “I’m glad you find this amusing, but I don’t.”

  “You two have quite the situation on your hands, don’t you? There’s more chemistry between you and that man than you ever had with Richard on the three separate occasions I spent with you two.”

  “That’s probably because he had chemistry with other women.”

  She stops laughing. “I’m so sorry about that, Sweetie. But after witnessing you with that Jonathan tonight… You’re in quite a dilemma. I’ll be praying for you.”

  “Thanks,” I reply sarcastically.

  Caressing my shoulder, she says, “Sweetie, I love you. At the end of the day, all I want is for you to be happy, one way or another. This will all work out.”

  I smile at her but say nothing further. I know she’s right. Only some sort of divine intervention could make this work.

  We arrive at the airport, and thankfully, saying goodbye didn’t turn into a drama.

  It’s after nine when I leave. I stop at a traffic light, and in the rear view mirror, I notice a dark colored SUV behind me. The road is mostly quiet. The light turns green, and I proceed to head home. Five minutes later, I notice the same vehicle behind me. Ten minutes, and the same. I feel uncomfortable for some reason. I suspect I’m being followed. I decide to take a small detour and stop outside a restaurant with some patrons in the parking lot to see what happens. The vehicle continues along the highway. Perhaps I’m being paranoid.

  I hit the road once more. My stomach turns ten minutes later when I realize that the same vehicle is behind me again. I’m being followed. Pressing the button on the steering wheel, I call 9-1-1.

  “9-1-1, what is your emergency?”

  “Hi my name is Jada McLean. I’m driving south bound on West Lake Boulevard, and I think I’m being followed.”

  “What color and make of vehicle are you driving, Ma’am?”

  “A silvery green Aston Martin DB9.”

  “And can you see the make of the vehicle following you?”

  “I can’t identify the model, but it’s a dark colored Chevy, probably navy or black… maybe a Chevy Tahoe or something like that.”

  “Can you give me an exact location of where you are right now?”

  “I just stopped at a light. I’m at the corner of Lincoln Highway and Lake Tahoe Boulevard. Oh God. They’re revving their engine behind me.”

  “Don’t panic. I have a trouper nearby, and they’re heading your way.”

  I look in the rear view mirror and can see the police car approaching. Seconds later, I hear screeching tires and the SUV overtakes me, runs the red light through the intersection, and takes off. Before I know it, another police car stops behind me.

  Two officers, one male and one female, check to see if I’m okay. They then escort me to the station to take a report. After, I head home, accompanied by police.

  As I enter the house, my phone rings. Not my cell phone or my Bobbyphone, but the landline at the house. I never use that phone. I don’t even know the number. I look at the screen and recognize the Lake Tahoe area code. Hesitantly, I answer.

  “Hello.”

  “Jada?”

  “Who’s this?”

  “It’s Jonathan.”

  I sigh in relief.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. How did you get this number? I don’t even know this number.”

  “Something called reverse lookup.”

  “Can I call you back in a minute?”

  “Sure… something’s wrong. What is it?”

  “Someone followed me on the way home after I left the airport.”

  “Are you okay? Did you call the police?”

  “I did. I don’t know if they’ve found the driver, but they escorted me home. I’m a little anxious.”

  “Would you like me to come over?”

  Yes.

  “No, thank you. That’s not necessary. It’s possible that it might be that reporter from this afternoon…”

  “I’m sorry you’re going through all this. Please take my number down. If anything happens, don’t hesitate to call me. Call the police first, then me.”

  “Thanks,” I reply, jotting the number down as he calls it out. “Look, I need to make a phone call. Can I call you back?”

  “Sure.”

  “What time do you go to bed?”

  “Don’t worry about that. I’ll wait for your call.”

  Moments later, I’m on the phone with Charles.

  “Do you think a reporter would follow me at that hour for some story?”

  “They might. But I need you to be careful, Jada. We have two investigators on the case. They may have uncovered some important evidence and might not even be aware of the meaning of it. We could be getting close to something. If that something is information that the killer doesn’t want uncovered, that might put you in danger.”

  “Oh my God.” I can’t stop trembling.

  “I’m not telling you this to scare you. That may have very well been the reporter. Nevertheless, be vigilant. Any incident that happens, I want you to report it to the police. Get copies of the reports as well.”

  “Okay,” I whisper.

  “Jada, I didn’t intend to scare you. We don’t know what Richard was involved in. But he being murdered, especially the way he was killed, is a sign that these people are dangerous.”

  “Do you think I should leave Lake Tahoe?”

  “Not tonight, it’s too dangerous. This person may be watching you from close by. Wait. Let’s see what the police come up with over the next few days. If it’s a nosey reporter, he’s looking for a good story. Anything else and I’d advise you to leave for good.”

  “Fine. I’ll call you tomorrow. Hopefully, the police will come up with something, and it’s not a big deal.”

  Twenty minutes later, after I check the doors and the alarm probably a hundred times, I lock myself in my room then take a long shower. I’m scared. I hate that I don’t feel safe and secure here anymore. I feel like, regardless of what the police say, I’m going to prepare to make a move soon.

  I’m done with my shower. After I slip into a pair of jean shorts and a sweatshirt, I call Jonathan. While waiting on the phone for him to answer, my doorbell rings.

  “Jada, it’s Jonathan,” his voice rings through the door.

  Oh my God. What’s he doing here?

  I double-check myself in the mirror, fixing a few lose strands of hair before heading to the door.

  “Hi. What are you doing he
re?”

  “It’s been over an hour. I thought something might have happened to you.”

  “I’m sorry. My conversation went longer than planned. I was calling when you knocked on the door.”

  I’m nervous by his presence, but I still let him in. I must admit, I do take comfort in the fact that he’s here with me. I’m afraid that whomever it was that followed me knows where I live, and they will come after me.

  “Would you like something to drink?”

  “Sure. Coffee. It’s cold outside.”

  “I’ll put on a pot. Have a seat.”

  “Nice place.”

  “Thanks,” I reply, walking into the kitchen and preparing the coffee. He sits across from me at the island.

  “Do you feel better?”

  I laugh nervously. “Not particularly. You never got around to telling me why you called.”

  “I wanted to make sure you got home ok… I wanted to be sure it wasn’t like the last time.”

  I feel a flicker of warmth in my chest.

  “Thank you. That was kind of you, but I’m fine.”

  He’s being sweet and caring, but I’m not sure I can trust him, and even if I could, I could never be honest with him about my life—All ingredients for a sure way not to start a relationship, even a friendship.

  I’d love it if I had the guts to kiss him with no consequences or repercussions, but the truth is, I can’t. Because of this, I don’t see how it could benefit either of us to continue stringing the other along.

  I pour us each a cup of coffee and sit next to him at the island.

  “You didn’t sound fine on the phone earlier,” he says.

  “I admit I’m a little on edge, but I think under the circumstances, that’s normal.”

  “Do you have anyone here to look out for you?”

  “I’m a big girl… I can take care of myself.”

  “Even big girls every now and then need to be taken care of.” He smiles.

  “You’re quite the flirt,” I reply. I would like to indulge him, but I know I can’t. “Look, Jonathan, I’m really grateful to you for coming all this way, but I think it’s a bad idea for us to be meeting like this.”

  “You don’t feel you can trust me?”

  “No. I don’t. And even if I did, because of who you are… I could never feel free to be honest around you. I find myself watching every word I say when you’re around.”