Memories of Daddy’s burial flood my mind. I suddenly feel an overwhelming sense of sadness—from that day. Coupled with the fact that I’ve lost a man who had become so much more than my lawyer, he was my confidant, a friend… a few tears come tumbling down.
The crowd has begun to disperse. I think it’s best that I quickly head to my car and pull myself together there. Within moments of turning my back and walking away, his call and the feel of his fingers surrounding my wrist interrupt my sad thoughts.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
I turn to face him, gazing into his glassy red eyes.
“Of course… I’m fine. Are you?”
“Thank you for being here. I know this wasn’t easy for you.”
“It was nothing,” I murmur.
“You’re still coming over? Right?”
“I’ll be there. I promise.”
The air becomes intense between us. I stare at him, but I refuse to succumb to my emotions. Imagine my shock when he embraces me in full view of everyone. My body reacts, and soon my arms surround his rugged body.
“Thank you so much,” he whispers.
Slowly, I pull away, taking his hands in mine. I draw them from around my neck. I know he’s vulnerable, but I don’t want to be the cause of anyone questioning his integrity when it comes to his job. I smile at him gently.
“I’ll see you at the house.”
“Sure… We’ll be close behind you.”
A woman opens the door when I arrive at the house. I think she is one of Charles’s two sisters.
“We said we wanted to mourn in private,” she says, with a look of disapproval.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” I reply softly. “Jonathan asked me to be here.”
She doesn’t respond, but steps aside, allowing me in.
The only people there besides immediate family are Charles’s two sisters, one brother, and their four adult children, spouses, and grandchildren.
I don’t think the woman who opened the door to let me in is happy by my presence. Since allowing me into the house, she’s been casting me ugly glances across the room. I’ve seen the rest of the family, but I don’t know where Jonathan is. I know he’s here because his car is outside.
Staff are in to assist; therefore, making myself busy in the kitchen or helping with stuff is not going to work today.
Megan sits quietly in the corner alone. Maybe I should go chat with her.
“Hey. Can I get you some coffee or juice?”
“No. I’m not hungry.”
“What are you trying to do, beat my record for who can go the longest without eating after their dad dies?”
She looks at me.
“Your dad died?”
I nod. “In exactly the way your dad did… I was close to your age when it happened too. The day after he returned home from my graduation.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You will always miss him. But if you concentrate on what you shared, the happy times, I promise you it will get easier.”
“I don’t know how to get over this… or how to move on.”
“Well, I can tell you your father wouldn’t be very pleased if he knew you hadn’t eaten since he died. Eat, if you want to start moving on… and yoghurts and liquids do not count.”
She looks at me, and her lips curve upward. It looks like I’m making progress.
“Please eat something, a sandwich, cake, ice cream, pizza… anything.”
“You can be very persuasive. You should become a lawyer.”
“I’ll stick to what I know.”
I ask one of the waiters to fix her a plate. When she’s eating five minutes later, Caroline looks at me from across the room and mouths thank you.
I’ve been here for forty-five minutes, and still there is no sign of Jonathan. I stand to go in search of him when he appears.
He looks at me but barely smiles. My body turns cold. I know something is wrong (besides Charles’s death). He nudges his head to the left, urging me to follow him. I do. Moments later, we’re in his dad’s office.
“What’s wrong?” I ask once the doors close behind us.
He circles me in his arms and holds me in a long embrace. After, I pull away and look at him.
“Your file came to my desk a few days ago.”
Chapter 7
I don’t know where to look, or exactly what to say. I feel my legs go weak. Eventually, I collapse onto the sofa.
“Jonathan, I did not do this.”
In my head, I can hear both Charles and Bobby saying, ‘speak to no one about this case.’
He squats in front of me and places his index finger on my lips.
“Please, don’t say anything. Just listen. Jada, I realized over the last few days that I can’t handle this case. There are too many conflicts: My dad representing you. My dad believing in your innocence. I believe in your innocence… and I’ve developed some really deep and complicated feelings for you. I had to recuse myself from your case.”
At the sound of his words, I’m not sure whether I should be happy or sad. I know that by him doing this, it will raise questions—from his colleagues, the media, and the people who elected him into office.
“This could tarnish your reputation.”
“If I didn’t do it, it most definitely would. This was the only choice I had.”
My hands are shaking. I’m not quite sure what to say.
“So they’re going to press charges against me?”
“There’s probably already a warrant out for your arrest.”
“I’ve been calling your dad’s office, but no one has returned my call.”
I’m scared. I’m not quite sure what to do. I pull my phone from my purse, and there is a missed call. I listen to the message. It’s one of Charles’s employees telling me that I need to show up for an arraignment at two o’clock. I look at my watch. It’s close to noon.
“I have to go.” I nervously and eagerly pull my keys from my purse, dropping them twice before I can run out the door.
“Jada, wait.”
“I can’t. I have to appear in court at two.”
I run out of the house, barely saying goodbye to anyone, and head down to Charles’s office.
When I arrive, a young man I recognize from the service walks towards me. He looks slightly older than I do.
“Ms. McLean?”
“Yes.”
“My name is Joshua Goldberg. I’ll be taking over your case.”
“Hi.” I follow him into the conference room. While doing that, I send Bobby a text message to let him know what is happening.
“Do I have to appear in court? Can you appear on my behalf?”
“Unfortunately, I can’t. Those are felony charges against you. You have to be present.”
The next few hours of my life seem like a dream. I am completely humiliated. Before we go into court, my lawyer escorts me to the police station, where I turn myself in to the police. There, I am booked. They photograph me, take my fingerprints, etcetera, and as I leave, there are hordes of photographers waiting to get a glimpse.
From there, we go to court. I look to the other side of the room, and thankfully, Jonathan is not the one standing there. It’s some other shark.
I am charged with two felony counts. Count number one, murder in the first degree, and count number two, aiding and abetting. After I enter a not guilty plea, I listen to the prosecutor argue all the reasons I should not be granted bail: I have access to bucket loads of money, I’m a flight risk, I have family abroad, I’m a danger to society, and the list goes on.
Ultimately, because I have a clean record, own a business, and I’ve been publicly a well-known good standing citizen in the state, the judge grants me bail on the condition that I turn in my passport and not leave the state.
I am relieved. I exit the courtroom with my lawyer, and while I try to ignore the media circus around me, Jonathan walks by. We look at each other, but exchange no words. He shakes hands w
ith Joshua in passing, just saying hello.
Two hours later, I am free to leave. Joshua tells me he will be in touch with my preliminary hearing date within the next few days and will send the investigators over to sweep my condo and my car.
Today has been emotionally exhausting. When I arrive home, all I want to do is get into my hot tub and relax with a glass of wine. I’m about to do that when the concierge calls to say the investigators are there. After another hour delay and one more tracking device later, I’m able to relax.
Tomorrow, I’ll make my move to another retreat so the media or whoever has been after me does not bother me. The investigator told me that he was heading to Sacramento that night, so he was more than happy to redirect my spies.
As I lie in the tub, memories of my last hot tub encounter with Jonathan come running back. Now that he’s recused himself from my case, I wonder what that means for us, if anything. I suppose what the media is saying might shed some light. Would they know his reason for recusal or would that remain confidential?
My landline rings again.
What now?
I run from the tub to the kitchen to answer the phone. I look at the phone and realize it’s the concierge—again.
“This had better be good, Mr. Brown. I’ve had an unbelievable day.”
“I hope it’s good. Can I see you? May I come up?”
Jonathan?
“What are you doing here? Don’t worry. I’m sending the elevator down.”
I run into my room and slip on a long sleeve tunic dress. As soon as I’m done running a comb through my hair, I use some mouthwash and finish just in time to hear the ping from the elevator. By the time I’m out of my bedroom, he awaits me in the foyer.
“Hi.”
“Hey,” he replies, kissing me on the cheek and surrounding me in his arms. I slip my arms around his neck in a warm and extremely long embrace. I feel a sense of relief, from what I’m not sure.
“Here would be the last place I’d ever expect to see you.”
“I’m so sorry about today.”
“Why?” I lead the way into the great room. “Be careful. I tracked water in running to answer the phone,” I say walking towards the kitchen.
“Wow. Jada. Some place you have here… Magnificent view,” he says, panning the glass walls that overlook Alcatraz and the bay.
“Thank you. I just redecorated. I’ll show you later. Would you like anything to drink?”
“Red wine if you have any,” he replies, occupying a seat at the island.
“I have pinot noir and a Châteauneuf-du-Pape. You pick.”
“Châteauneuf. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Why?”
“You were arraigned today.”
“That’s a fact I am very much aware of, thank you. Exactly why are you here, Counselor?”
“I’ve been worried about you.”
“Well, don’t. You have your family to think about. You lost your dad. I’m the last person you need to be worried about.”
“I care about you too much not to worry.”
I blush.
“Why were you at work today anyway?”
“I had a press conference.”
“About my case?”
“Yes.”
“Did you discuss why you recused yourself?”
“Yes. I had to be candid.”
“What explanation did you give?”
“I told them the truth.”
“Counselor, why won’t you just come out and tell me what you bloody well said?”
“You know no one in the US says that, right?”
“I’m quite aware. I’ve lived here half my life. Now tell me.”
“I told them the truth. I told them my dad was your lawyer. You had become friends with both my family and me. And I didn’t think I could make an unbiased decision because, despite whatever evidence the police think they have, I believe you are innocent.”
“Well, thank you for the vote of confidence, Counselor.”
“What are your plans for this weekend?”
“Between the two of us, I think I’m going to find a house in either Big Sur or Carmel. If I find one in time, I’ll leave tomorrow.”
“Why so soon?”
“Numerous reasons. I’d prefer if I didn’t have to deal with the media, and a PI found another tracking device on my car. The investigator was heading to Sacramento tonight, and he took it with him, so hopefully, I’ll get a good head start if I’m heading in the opposite direction.”
“With what’s been happening, you shouldn’t be going anywhere alone.”
“Well, staying here isn’t an option. I can’t live a normal life here. And besides, I can take care of myself.”
“You can come to Lake Tahoe and stay with me. We are now free to pick up from where we left off last weekend.”
I flush. “Jonathan. I’m not sure I’m ready or if I can give you what you want.”
“What are you afraid of?”
“That it’s too soon… I’m rebounding… You’ll get hurt… I’ll get hurt… I’ll ruin your reputation. Do you want me to go on?”
“If he wasn’t killed, do you think you would have gotten back together?”
“Absolutely, unequivocally not.”
“He really hurt you.”
“You think? Can we not talk about this? I tried to cleanse this place of any memory I had of him… or her.”
“Do you get lonely?”
“What’s with all the deep personal questions? How come I’m the one doing all the talking? I feel like I’m under cross examination.”
“You haven’t asked me any questions.”
“What’s the deal with Sophie?”
He turns red.
“What? Cat caught your tongue?”
“Sophie… Sophie is…” he stammers.
“What? Your fuck buddy?”
His mouth drops open.
“Little Miss Potty Mouth.”
“So… is she?”
“I guess she could qualify as that.”
“No long romantic weekends at Lake Tahoe?”
“Just one… Did something happen between you two? She called asking all sorts of questions and making insinuations the other day.”
“About me?”
He nods.
“I didn’t want to discuss it with you then, but she accosted me at your parents’ house.”
“What?”
“She threatened me.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“No. I’m not.”
“What did she say?”
“She ordered me to stay away from you and told me if I didn’t, I’d regret it. When I tried to walk passed her, she pushed me.”
He gasps.
“Don’t you worry. I can handle myself. I twisted her arm behind her back and told her if she ever touched me again, I’d break her fucking arm off.”
He stares at me—astounded.
“You’re quite the bad ass.”
I smile at him but say nothing.
“I… I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything. Just keep your pit bull on a leash.”
“Jada, I’m sorry about that. I’ve never seen that side of her, and she knows where things stand between her and me.”
“Well, it looks like your little trysts mean a whole lot more to her than they do to you.”
He sighs. “I never saw that coming.”
Why? Have you not looked at yourself in the mirror?
“So why aren’t things more serious between you?”
“Let’s just say a surname and status is what’s most important to Sophie.”
“And not to you? ‘Mr. Don’t-you-know-who-I-am?’ How often has that garbage worked for you, anyway?”
“You’d be surprised.”
I tilt my head to the side. “I can’t believe that line would ever get you the desired response.”
“I got your atten
tion, didn’t I?”
“I don’t know if it’s the type of attention you’d want. Do you know that for the first few weeks I knew you, your name was Mr. Asshole? Even Bobby use to call you that.”
He erupts in laughter.
“Make that Mr. Thoroughbred Asshole.”
I giggle. “You used to sicken my guts.”
Or so I thought.
“Well, I’m making progress then.”
“Oh shut up.” I blush. “You hungry? I can order us dinner?”
“Sure… you know, I can’t say anyone has ever spoken to me the way you have.”
“Why? Are you used to people always kissing your ass?”
“Honestly. Yes. That is, until you came along.”
“You’re kind of arrogant, aren’t you?” I laugh.
“I don’t think I’m that way… maybe I’m misunderstood.”
“Why? You’re not that intimidating.”
“I don’t know. I leave those details for others to decide.”
I hand him the menus then place the order. Forty minutes later, we enjoy our Lebanese cuisine out on the patio.
“Can I ask you a personal question?” I ask.
“Sure… it’s not like anything’s stopped you all night.”
I wink at him. “This is serious, though. What happens with the firm now that your dad’s gone?”
“I’ve been thinking about that. My dad’s will was read this afternoon. He left it to Megan and me. I think there might be a decline in clientele with him gone. Megan is fresh out of law school. She doesn’t have nearly enough experience to run things.”
“You don’t think the rest of his team can move things forward?”
“I’m not sure. I think it’s something we’ll have to monitor as time goes by.”
“I was really scared today when he wasn’t the one standing by my side. I suppose I don’t know Joshua well enough, so that’s normal.”
“I think I want someone else working on your case.”
“Why?”
“He’s not the best. Not many in the office meet that criteria, compared to my father, but I know there are others better than him.”
“He did his job today. I’m not sure I want to fire him.”
Love, Lies & The D.A. Page 16
