Three weeks in, my mostly peaceful thoughts are disturbed when I receive an email from Phillip telling me Giorgio Rossellini and the other henchman that escaped were arrested two days after I left San Francisco.
I’ve been avoiding thinking about my return to San Francisco. I’m in an environment where there are no outright reminders of my previous life, and I’ve taken comfort in that. However, I have to admit, I’m afraid to return. Honestly, I’m not sure if I’m ready to face a life that I got used to—a life with Jonathan Kole.
I spend some months in Chile then decide that probably the best way to deal with my fears is to confront them head on. In the time I’ve been here, apart from a few short exchanges with the staff, I’ve spoken to no one.
I still shed tears daily. To say that this has become easier would be a lie. Perhaps returning to the office is what I need to do to move on. Nothing I’ve tried to help me move forward from this ordeal has worked. I want to feel normal again. If this continues much longer, I’m afraid I’ll go insane, and the fact that I have to testify at this trial is prolonging my agony.
I arrive in San Francisco one month before the trial is due to begin. Prosecutors prepare me on how to handle questions posed to me by the defense attorneys. I am eager for this process to be over. Unfortunately, when this trial is done, months down the line, I will be expected to testify at other trials with the Chief of Police, Senator Rice, and all the other dirty cops involved, not forgetting the man who actually kidnapped me. This has the potential to be a constant in my life, at least for the next few years.
To help pass the time on the weekends, I make and deliver food to the homeless in Tenderloin. During that time, it’s hard to think about anything else other than the people I serve and the stories they sometimes share with me.
I purchased a building there, and I’m opening a center where the homeless and addicts can come for a meal and also try to be rehabilitated and get their lives back on track. I work with doctors, teachers, and counselors who donate their time. We put programs in place where the homeless can find a trade, for those who lack experience. For those who do have experience, we work with companies in the Bay Area to get them placed in jobs.
In many ways, it’s taken my mind off things. I spend much time there, so I won’t have to think of the void inside me, and my own sadness, the way I do when I’m home alone.
Days before the trial, I find out the defense has been relentlessly trying to have some audio and videotape evidence thrown out. Actual video showing Rossellini shooting a female FBI agent and Jonathan, who was wearing the camera.
When the judge rejects their plea on three separate occasions, I receive a call saying that he has changed his plea to guilty. With this new change of events, I am thankful that I won’t have to testify at this trial.
Days later, I’m at the office trying to focus on getting some work done. Solace comes across on the intercom.
“Jada, I’m sorry, I know you said you didn’t want to be bothered, but there’s a Phillip Cross here to see you. He says it’s urgent.”
“Sure. Let him in.”
Moments later, he enters.
“Hi, I thought you were already on your next assignment.”
“Not yet.” He smiles sadly.
“What brings you here?”
“I still have some loose ends to wrap up in this case.”
“No offense, but if I never have to deal with one more issue from the last few months, it would make my life a hell of a lot easier. You must need something from me or you wouldn’t be here.”
“Jada, I need to talk to you. Please let me take you out to breakfast.”
I stare at him. I’m still so angry with him. It’s like he’s a big fat reminder that Jonathan’s gone. Deep down, I know this isn’t his fault, but I guess I need someone to blame…
“Talk. What is it?” I say softly.
“Please. Breakfast? I have somethings I’d like to share with you before I leave town.”
I stare at him for a moment then finally relent. “Fine.”
He opens the door of the large black SUV parked next to my car.
We’ve been driving for about fifteen minutes, and Phillip hasn’t said a word.
“Phillip, where are we going?”
“I’m taking you to an airstrip nearby. An aircraft is waiting for you.”
“I’m going somewhere?”
“Jada, I don’t know how else to tell you this, so I’ll just come out and say it.” He hesitates.
“What is it? You’re making me nervous…”
“Jonathan is alive. He’s been in the witness protection program all this time.”
“What?” I feel a mixture of emotions all at once—happiness, confusion, fear, anger. I try to speak, but I can’t.
“I couldn’t tell you sooner. I’m sorry.”
“Where is he?”
“You’ll find out when you get there. There’s a bag on the back seat. It has everything you need. Once the plane lands, two agents will pick you up and take you to him.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing.
“Is this some sort of a sick joke?”
“I’m dead serious.”
“How long have you known?”
“Listen to me, Jada. I’m taking a big enough risk doing this. It goes against everything I’ve been taught. Please don’t ask me anymore questions,” he says as we drive onto the small private runway. A plane waits.
I pull the bag from the back seat and look through it.
“There’s some clothing in there and some cash, along with everything else you need. You need to leave your belongings with me.”
“Phillip—”
“It’s either my way or not at all. You pick.”
“Fine. But I have to make a call to my office. I have to let them know I won’t be coming in.”
“That’s fine.”
“And Bobby. How long will I be gone for?”
“It shouldn’t be longer than a week or two. Listen, you can’t say a word about any of this. Not to anyone—not your brother, not Jonathan’s family, no one.”
“I get it. Please, your phone.”
I hug him tightly before getting onto the jet.
“I’m sorry, and thank you.”
“Get going. I’ll see you when you get back.”
A few hours later, I get off the plane that has landed on another secluded runway strip. Two men are there to pick me up. Phillip showed me their pictures, so I am able to recognize them easily, with no fear or apprehension.
We’ve been driving for an hour, and still, I have no clue where I am or how much longer it will be before we arrive at our destination. We’re in an extremely remote area. Rolling hills and rugged snowcapped mountains in the distance escort us throughout the drive. I think I’ve probably seen three or four homes or structures on our drive all this time. It’s completely desolate.
My palms are drenched and my stomach feels like it’s been turned upside down. It still hasn’t sunk in. I’m in the middle of no man’s land with absolutely no clue of where I am and where I’m going, with two men I know from absolutely nowhere, and I still can’t believe that I’m going to be seeing Jonathan.
“How soon will we arrive?” I ask the men.
“Another half hour,” one replies.
A while later, we turn onto a dirt road. We drive for another fifteen minutes, through winding roads in extremely rugged terrain. We drive through the wilderness, through a creek, and up heavily wooded hills. The use of a four-wheel drive vehicle is necessary to get there.
It looks like we might be nearing our destination. I see two cabins in the distance poking through some trees at the top of the summit. The SUV finally pulls up. It’s actually one house, but the two gables in the distance made it appear to be two.
The garage door opens like electronic gates. From the outside, they appear to be bifold French doors. The vehicle halts, and the doors close behind us. The garage appears to sepa
rate two living spaces. There are two entry doors, one on either side.
“He’s inside,” one of the men says. “You can go through those doors,” he says, pointing to the doors to the left. Across the garage, to the opposite side, a door leads to the other part of the building. One of the men goes there.
I’m nervous. I can’t believe this is happening. I walk through the door that leads into a kitchen and place my bag on the butcher-block countertop. The all-white, small eat-in kitchen is spotless. A small sectional sofa surrounds the wood burning stove, but still, as I pan the pine walls, he is not in sight.
I carefully step inside. Neither of the men is with me. I suppose they both went into the other side of the property. I see a small staircase leading upstairs, and to my right are three doors. It suddenly occurs to me that Jonathan and I are in the same house, and frantically I run, opening every closed door, so eager to see his face.
“Jonathan…” The first door, a bedroom—empty.
“Johnny…” The second, a bathroom—empty. The tears flow from my eyes. I’m afraid that this is not real.
“Jada?” I hear his voice from upstairs.
Now I know it’s real. He’s actually alive! I bolt from the second empty bedroom below, frantically running up the stairs where we finally meet at the top.
There he is.
He folds me in his arms. I tie my arms and legs around him. I don’t ever want to let go. There are no words between us—just sobbing. He finally leans back to look at me, and I look directly into his piercing greys. Tears stream down his cheeks too. He kisses me softly on my lips, then my cheeks, then my nose and eyes and forehead… Pulling me into his body once more, our hearts explode between us. I feel the overpowering thumping from his chest, and I’m sure he can feel mine.
I finally sigh and release. I think I’ve been holding my breath all these months, hoping and praying that this would happen, and now it has. He’s here, in my presence, healthy. He’s with me… and I’m with him. The sobs escape my mouth, and I feel the sadness, the anxiety, and the fear that’s been inside me these last few months slowly leaving my body.
He takes me to his bed where we hold each other with not a millimeter of space between us. All the familiar feelings I’ve craved are returning. The scent of his aftershave, his fingers running through my hair, the look in his beautiful grey eyes, and the soft kisses he continues to place all over my face.
“I love you,” I whisper through my unceasing tears. “I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you.”
“I love you too, Baby,” he says softly, holding me tightly in his arms. “In a way I have no other.”
I guess there was a part of me that was still in disbelief, even though I was praying for this to be true. Now, he’s here, and I see him before my eyes. After all the months of pain, I am elated that he is alive.
He pulls me close once more. My leg drapes over his body. His arms securely circles around me. My arms attach to his, and we continue to lie in silence, in each other, with each other.
On the bedside table, I notice a few books, and a stack of San Francisco newspapers. I suppose he’s been keeping track of what’s been going on. It feels like he may have lost some weight. His hair is long and in a ponytail. I’m still in disbelief that this is happening.
“I miss you so much,” he whispers.
“I miss you too. You have no idea how much…”
As we lie, I realize there’s so much I want to know. I have so many questions, but at the same time, I want this moment we share right now to last forever. As if he’s reading my mind…
* * *
“Tell me, what’s on your mind?” I ask her.
After a long silence, she asks, “Were you ever really hurt?”
“Yes. Two bullets grazed the side of my head. It was close enough to fracture my skull, but not deep enough to damage my brain. I was also shot in the chest.”
I remove the ponytail holder, part my hair, and take her hand, guiding her fingers so she sees and feels my scars.
“Are you okay now?”
“I am.”
“Where are we?”
“Some place in Montana… Jada, he needed to think I was dead or he’d come after you.”
“That might be true, but I didn’t need to think you were dead.”
“I didn’t want to risk him coming after you, not after what you’d been through.”
She remains silent, looking into my eyes as we lie facing each other.
“I knew this would be hard on you and my family, but the alternative was worse.”
“Do you have any idea what the last few months have been like?”
I can tell she’s upset, but she’s not shouting; she’s actually speaking very softly.
“It’s a decision I questioned every day, but at the time, I did what I felt was best for your safety.”
She looks at me. I know this hurt her; her eyes say it all. She looks so conflicted.
“I’m sorry this hurt you,” I say, wiping her tears away with my thumbs.
She doesn’t respond. For the first time, it occurs to me this might have ruined what we shared. Despite my best intentions, I let her believe I was dead and that hurt her. I think she might feel that I didn’t trust her by not confiding in her. I understand how she feels. I’d probably feel the same way, but it’s too late to second-guess a decision I had to make on the spur of the moment months ago.
It was rough for me too. Trusting my family’s safety to people I didn’t know at the FBI was the most difficult decision I’ve ever made. But it was better than having the mob go after them either to hurt them or because they were trying to find me. It’s not as if I was in the condition to protect them, anyway.
“What are you thinking?” I question.
She sighs, rolling unto her back. “I’m happy you’re alive and well. I’m so happy you’re alive…”
“But?”
“For months, I felt I was responsible for your death. Johnny, we had a memorial, we threw away your ashes… Do you know how difficult that was? Do you have any idea how much that hurt? It broke my heart. I thought I’d never see you again.”
Her face is red from her crying. I prop my head up on my hand, watching as the tears slide to the side of her face.
“I’ve been trying for the last few months to figure out why all this was happening. Why you would come into my life and then be taken away from me, and then I find out… How am I supposed to feel?”
“I was trying to protect you and my family.”
“I understand that, and I appreciate you doing that, but it doesn’t take away all the heartache. You didn’t trust me, and because of that, your family and I had to endure months of agony.”
“Baby, I did what I had to do with very little time to make a decision. My only concern at that time was your safety. That was my only priority then. If I had to do it again, I might have made a different decision, but I can’t. I’m sorry that this hurt you, but I’m not going to apologize for putting your safety first.”
She doesn’t respond, but it looks like she’s processing what I said. I’m so afraid that, after all this, I’ll lose her. I could have never imagined how much this would have affected her, despite the fact that Phillip told me.
“Tell me what I can do to fix this,” I whisper.
“I don’t know,” she murmurs. “I don’t expect you to do anything. You saved my life. What more could I want?”
“I want you to be okay again.”
“Maybe I just need time. I’ve been living one day to the next, and now, I suddenly find out you’re alive. I need some time to readjust.”
“Jada, I’m so sorry I hurt you.”
“You don’t have to apologize. I don’t want you to. I’m just confused.”
“Do you still love me?”
“Yes, of course I still love you,” she says, holding my hand. “I’ll never stop loving you.”
“And I love you. So let’s start there.” I surroun
d her in my arms once more. Slowly, I feel the tension leave her body while her tears soak my sweater.
“I miss you so much,” she eventually whispers.
“I miss you too, Baby. You’re going to be okay. It’s been a rough year, but we’re going to make it through this. You’re going to be fine.”
“I’ve tried so hard to get things back to normal. I don’t even know what normal is anymore…”
“We’ll get each other back on track. How was Chile?”
“Beautiful… and lonely.”
“We’ll have to go back one day and change that.”
She smiles at my response, and that gives me some more hope that we will be okay.
“How’s it been here?”
“Boring… but also beautiful and lonely. It’s taken a lot to get used to. I’ve been completely cut off from civilization. No phones, no internet, no cable TV. Thank goodness for DVDs. I’ve been tempted to end this so many times and come home to you, but… I was so worried about you.”
“I’d call your phone hoping you’d answer, or just so I could hear your voice mail message. I didn’t want to believe you were gone. I kept hoping it was some sort of mistake. It only started to really sink in at the memorial when I saw the urn, then it hit home when I threw the last of your ashes away.”
“I’m so sorry you went through that. Maybe if I had more time to think about it, I would have chosen otherwise. I was rushed to a hospital somewhere where I had surgery. I have a small piece of metal covering the hole in my head now. The bullet in my chest was inches away from my heart. The FBI came to see me soon after I was out of surgery and told me that Rossellini had escaped, and it would probably be best if I were taken into protective custody.
At the time, I didn’t feel that I was in the condition to be able to protect you. I was recovering in a bed somewhere, so I agreed to let him think I was dead. For my safety, but also yours. He told me that he was going to kill you to teach me what it felt like to have a loved one taken away. That’s why I agreed to do it. If he even suspected I was alive, I couldn’t be sure that he wouldn’t go after you or my family. I’m sorry it caused you pain, but I thought it was the best decision under the circumstances.”
Love, Lies & The D.A. Page 44
