Love, Lies & The D.A. (47 page)

“Ever
so efficient.” I climb in to join her.

“I’m
sorry it didn’t turn out as planned,” she says as I hold her in my arms.

“It’s
perfect. This is special. I’ll never forget this.”

I
drift as the heavy droplets pound onto the roof above. I hope in a few hours
the clouds will clear and we’ll wake to an awesome sunrise.

*     *     *

Jonathan’s
still asleep when I wake. The rains have ceased and a golden hue forms over the
horizon. I pull the flask nearby and pour us each some coffee. Six hours after
pouring it into the flask, and it is still piping hot. I kiss him tenderly on
his lips and he wakes.

I sit
on the hood of the SUV, and he leans back between my legs. Together, we watch
the most spectacular sunrise unfold. Navies, blues, and golds fill the skies
above as the bridge wakes before us. It’s been an amazing night, and a
fantastic start to the day. He turns to face me. I look into his eyes, and I’m
completely overwhelmed by the moment.

“You’re
okay, Babe?”

“I’m
scared,” I whisper.

“Why?”

“I’m
falling in love with you.”

He
cups my face in his hands and draws me into him.

“Don’t
be. I’m in love with you too.”

Our
lips touch and gently and slowly, I part my lips and invite him in, gently
caressing his tongue with mine. It’s intimate. Loving. As he holds me in his
arms, I realize how scared I am that this deal with the FBI somehow won’t work
out, and I’ll be thrown in jail, and I’ll have to let him go.

“I
promise I’ll take care of you. I’m never going to let anything happen to you.”

“Can
you do me a big favor, please?”

“What’s
that?”

“Take
me home and make love to me.”

“I’d
love to.”

Later
that evening,
I sit and watch Jonathan as he prepares for
his big night. I lie on his bed and watch while he slips into a tux.

“It’s
not too late for you to change your mind.” He smiles.

“Let’s
not go there. I’ll be thinking about you the whole time, though. You’re going
to be great. Your dad would have been proud.”

“Well,
I’m reading a speech he prepared himself. I think I’m the one that’s honored.”

“Be
sure to use your contacts and get me a video recording of tonight.”

“I’ll
see what I can do. Can you help me with this bowtie, please?”

“Sure,”
I reply, standing at the edge of the bed so I’m looking down on him.

“You
know what you’re doing, right?”

“Of
course,” I laugh. “I had a father, and I have a brother… thank God.”

“He’s
fine. Stop worrying. You’ve spoken to him every single day… at least ten times
a day since Wednesday.”

“Not
ten… maybe five. If you think I’m bad, he told me our mom calls every few
hours.” I chuckle. “Are you nervous?”

“A little.
If you came with me, it would help me calm down.”

I look
seriously into his piercing greys.

“You
mean the world to me. If for one second, I thought this was in your best
interest, I’d be escorting you out of here tonight.”

I pull
his tie snugly in place.

“You
have to know I’m doing this because I love you.” I fold my arms around his neck
and kiss him lightly on his lips.

“I
know, Sweetheart,” he replies and pulls me in an extended embrace. He holds my
French braid in his palm and wraps it around his wrist then gently tugs my head
back. He intensely gazes into my eyes for what seems like minutes. He leans
towards me then his lips touch mine.

“Make
sure you’re up and waiting when I get back home. I’d like to show you just how deeply
I love you too.”

“
Immm,
round two… I’ll be waiting.”

I
escort him down to the garage, and before he gets in the vehicle, he kisses me
deeply once more.

“Make
sure you activate the alarm as soon as I leave.”

“I
will…”

“You
remember the code?”

“You mean
your ten digit code?”

“That
would be the one.”

“0-7-5-8-5-3-0-4-1-5.”

“Good
girl.”

“I’ll
be thinking about you… I promise.”

“I’ll
be thinking about you too. Love you, Baby,” he replies, pecking my lips, then
backs out of the driveway.

Once
upstairs, I activate the alarm.

I want
to make his return home one he’ll never forget.

I
cuddle up on the sofa with the doggies at my feet. I think of ideas on how to
make his return special.

I
search through the kitchen to see what I have to work with. Let’s see… some
fruit. Grapes and strawberries in particular. I am pleasantly surprised that
when I open the wine cooler, two bottles of Dom Perignon occupy the top shelf.

Searching
through the cabinetry, I get my hands on two flutes and a glass champagne
bucket. I neatly place all my finds on the island in preparation for the
evening ahead. I find a few tapered candles in one of the kitchen drawers. It’s
not nearly enough for what I have in mind, but if I cut them into three each, I’ll
make do.

As I’d
expect, he doesn’t have more than one or two decorative candleholders. I
improvise with the two dozen or so rock glasses that he owns, securing pieces
of the cut candles to the bottom of each with melted wax. I line the candles up
the spiral staircase then to his room and all the solid flat surfaces around
his bed. When I know he’s on the way, I’ll light them.

When I
look in his linen closet, I am very surprised to find that he owns a set of red
satin sheets. I swap them out with the brown ones currently on the bed.

I’ve set
the scene, but I need to appeal to all the senses. I have sight taken care of
with the candles and red sheets, then there is always
moi
. The fruit and
champagne will take care of his taste buds. Touch will be those satin sheets
and my body. That leaves hearing and smelling.

I look
through his MP3 player in the living room, but nothing strikes me. Some doors
under the window seat, for some unknown reason, grab my attention. I open them
and am surprised to find a stack of maybe a hundred jazz records. This I didn’t
expect. Mr. Jonathan Kole is full of surprises. Pleasant surprises.

I pull
a few of the records out, one by Billie Holiday, another by Miles Davis, and a
third my John Coltrane. I can’t remember the last time I operated a record
player. I don’t even know where it is. After some searching, it’s in the
credenza nearby. Carefully, I switch it on. If I screw this up and scratch that
record, I’m certain he’ll be extremely pissed. Somehow, I get the first album
playing without a hitch.

He has
one or two scented candles lying around, so I’ll use them to appeal to his
sense of smell when he walks in the house. When he gets to his room, my perfume
will handle the rest.

 I
feel a bit mischievous. I take a picture of my bare legs and send him a text
message.

JM:          Thinking
about you. Dying to wrap these around you.

Within seconds, he responds.

JK:          I’m
looking forward to getting between them.

JM:          I’m
going to have a bubble bath… maybe I’ll text you some pictures to show you what
you’re missing

JK:          Behave
woman. I’ll be making my speech in a sec.

JM:          Good
luck. I’m so proud of you. I have a surprise waiting for you when you get home.

JK:          Looking
forward to that. I’ll let you know when I’m on my way.

JM:          Great.
I can’t wait to see you. xoxox.

JK:          You
too Baby…

I’m
eager and excited to see him. I relax in a nice hot bubble bath and listen to
the jazz that plays in the distance. I lie back, close my eyes, and picture him
as he reads his dad’s words to the crowd
—
the
very words he read to me a few days ago when he practiced.

I know
how much the association honoring his dad means to him. I know he wanted
tonight to be perfect, and I have no doubt in my mind that it will.

A
while later, I get his text saying he’s on his way home. I suppose that picture
motivated him to get here quickly. I slip into one of his white shirts and an
incredibly hot pair of shorts. Just before he arrives, I’ll rid myself of them
to expose the red lingerie below. I take another quick photo, this time of me
smiling into the camera, and send it to him, slipping the phone into the pocket
of my shorts.

Quickly,
I set the candles alight, starting in the bedroom and working my way down the
stairs. I return upstairs with the champagne and two flutes on ice in the
bucket and set it down neatly on the bench at the foot of the bed.

I
still need to get the fruit, so I head to the kitchen. I fix the bowl, and I’m
about to head up the staircase when the dogs start growling and barking aggressively.
My mind instantly drifts back to that time in Big Sur. Only now, it’s worse. Goose
bumps cover my body. I look through the doors where they sniff at, but I see
nothing. They continue to bark, loudly.

I’m
getting extremely nervous, although I see nothing through the expanse of glass
windows around the house. I’m about to pull the phone from my pocket to call
Jonathan when I hear glass shatter.

I scream
instinctively, dropping the bowl of fruit onto the floor. The alarm goes off. I
don’t have time to turn when someone grabs me from behind, putting a towel over
my mouth and nose. I struggle and try to break free, but a second attacker, a masked
man, walks in front of me and holds me by my legs. I can’t see, but I can hear the
dogs attacking them as I try to kick the man in front me. Suddenly, two quiet
gunshots and then silence… I fight and fight, but I feel my limbs going weak
soon… darkness…

*     *     *

I feel
my phone vibrate. Looking at the message, it’s a sweet picture of Jada. She’s
been playful tonight. I wonder what she’s up to. I turn round the corner onto
my street. A black van almost hits me as it speeds in the opposite direction.

Minutes
later, as I approach the house, I hear the alarm blazing. I pull my weapon out
of the locked compartment and quickly load it, calling Phillip while running
into the house.

What I
see is a sight far from what I expected. Both Maggie and Micky appear to be
shot dead, lying on a carpet of shattered glass and in a pool of blood. Ice
runs through my blood; my heart viscously pumps in my chest.

“Jada,”
I shout, running through the house frantically then up the stairs, but there is
simply no trace of her anywhere. The landline rings as I search desperately
through the house. I answer. It’s the security company. I quickly get rid of
them. She’s not in my room, or my bathroom, or the guest rooms, or laundry
room, or the office. I know she’s not here. I can feel it. By the time I return
downstairs, Phillip and Douglas have arrived. Phillip is on the phone.

Someone
has taken her away.

I try
to process what’s happening around me. Then I realize the rest of my family
might be in danger as well. Douglas makes the call and agents go over to my
parents’ house.

I play
the last few minutes over in my head. This had to have just happened. She was
probably in that black van that almost hit me. I retell the last half an hour
of my life while Phillip takes note. Then I hear him on the phone.

“We
need to put out a BOLO… black van, possibly a late model Ford. Nevada license
plates.”

My
phone rings, distracting me. I quickly pull it from my pocket hoping it’s Jada,
but it’s my mom.

“What’s
going on?” she asks. She’s panicking. “Why are FBI agents here?”

“Mom,
I’m sorry, I can’t talk right now. Just let them do their job. Jada has been
kidnaped.”

“Oh my
God. What happened? Did someone call?”

“No.
Not yet. The house has been broken into. The dogs were killed, and there’s not
a trace of her here. There are signs of a struggle.”

“Is
there anything I can do?”

“Allow
the FBI to do their job. I have to go.”

“Johnny.”

“What
is it, Mom?”

“I’m
so sorry.”

“I’m
sorry too,” I reply. I know what she’s thinking. If Jada had been with me, this
would have never happened. I end the call.

“What
can I do?” I ask Phillip. “What can I do to find her?”

“For
now, just let us do what we do best. Your calls are being monitored, in case
they call.”

“I
noticed one of her phones is missing. She sent me a text a few minutes before I
got here.”

“We’ll
put a tracer on that too. If she tries to call or text, maybe a cell tower will
pick up a location.”

“I
need to do something. You can’t expect me to sit here and wait.”

“Jonathan,
you need to back off for a moment. We’re on it.”

“Do
you know if she was wearing that necklace?” Douglas asks.

“I’ll
check, but I doubt it. She only wore it when she was leaving the house.”

I head
up to the bedroom and check through her drawers, and as I suspected, the
necklace lies together with some of her other jewelry in a small silver box.

I
deliver the bad news when I return downstairs. I pull away my jacket and tie,
and I sit at the kitchen island. I have no idea how they got here, but a group
of agents suddenly appears through my back door. My house has become a crime
scene that is being processed.

I look
around my home. My Miles Davis record is playing. I can also smell a trace of
her perfume. On the floor among the blood, glass, and the shattered bowl,
strawberries and grapes are scattered across the floor. Candles glow on the
staircase. The night she planned for us is a dream. I pray she’s not hurt. I
hope she’s okay. Once her kidnappers call with their demands, I’ll give them
whatever they want. I just want her set free.

“It
looks like there might be skin tissue on the dogs’ teeth,” one of the agents
says.

I’m so
worried about Jada. It looks like my dogs were killed trying to protect her. I
hope they got enough DNA so we can identify who is responsible for this.

“We
have two sets of shoe prints in this blood,” another agent says. “Probably size
twelve and fourteen shoes—both Caterpillar.”

“They’re
most likely men,” Douglas says. “There’s no way she would have been able to
fight off two of them.”

I sit
for hours and wait, and hope, and pray for my phone to ring. I hope and pray
that she’s okay. I know she must be scared, and I feel completely helpless
knowing there is nothing I can do to help her. I wasn’t there to protect her.

I
check both my cell phones maybe a hundred times, and double-check to ensure the
landline hasn’t been disconnected, and make sure all phones are fully charged.
I sit here clueless as to what I can do to make this better. I want to get her
back. I want her in my arms. I want to hug her, kiss her, and tell her that I
love her. I’ve never felt so out of control and helpless in my life.

I
suddenly think of Bobby and her mother. Do I need to let them know about this?
Or should I wait and hope this is settled soon, and they won’t need to worry about
it. I glance at my watch; it’s almost midnight. It’s in the early hours of the
morning in Florida. I put myself in his shoes. I’d want to know immediately. I
scroll through the numbers on my phone and call him.

It’s
difficult news to deliver. He tells me he’ll be here soon. The agony is
indescribable. Not knowing. Not having the answers. The waiting; every minute
seems like an hour. My phone sits in front of me, and I stare and wait…

*     *     *

I hear
faint voices. None of which I recognize. I lie still and silent, trying to
remember what happened. I think I’ve been drugged. I feel so sleepy and
lethargic. I’m in a cold, dark room. The only light comes from a crack under
the door.

I am
gagged. My hands are cuffed behind my back, and my feet are bound by what feels
like duct tape.

Why am
I here? What do these people want from me? What sense would it make to kidnap
me if they wanted money from me? I think about Johnny. These people had no
problem killing his beloved dogs, the dogs who tried to protect me.

When
will this nightmare be over? From the day Richard was found dead, I seem to be
followed by whatever nasty activity he was involved in that caused his death.

These
are probably the same people. What reason do I have to think that I’ll ever
make it out of this alive, especially considering the brutal way in which he
was killed?

Tonight,
when I looked into Jonathan’s eyes, it was probably the last I’d ever see of
him. A man who has been there for me through the most trying time in my life,
and a man who I’ve come to love.

I lie
on my side. It’s cold and dark and it smells moldy. I want my life back. I wish
I never met Richard, but I suppose that if I never met him, I would have never
gone to Lake Tahoe that fall day, and Jonathan Kole would have never walked
into my life.

I know
he must be worried. To make matters worse, he lost his dogs too. Then there’s
Bobby and Mom… I don’t know what this will do to them… I don’t want any of
this. I don’t want to think about it. I want to wake from this nightmare.

I wish
someone would find me and get me away from these people. I start to fully
understand why Phillip wanted me to wear that necklace. God, how I wish I were
wearing that necklace. If I did, they’d know where I am right now. They’d know
where to find me, and I might not have to worry about making my way out of this
alive. I close my eyes and try to sleep through my fear… It’s useless.

I don’t
know how much time has gone by, but the talking has stopped. For hours, I think
about Jonathan. I’ll never get to see or hear how his speech went. He’ll never
make love to me again. I’ll never get to look into his beautiful piercing
greys. I’ll never feel his arms around me… I can’t hold back further, the tears
burn. They’re unstoppable.

I must
have drifted. When I open my eyes, I can see little streams of light coming
through a mostly blocked window. I am in a basement somewhere, which accounts
for the musty smell that irritates my nose. The faint voices are back, but this
time as I listen, I can hear them drawing nearer. I can also hear what sounds
like heavy boots coming down a set of wooden stairs. I close my eyes and
pretend to be asleep. I hear what sounds like someone fiddling with several
locks on the door.

The
door bursts open and the room is now flooded with light. I am quickly drenched
with what feels like ice-cold water.

One of
the men kicks me over to my side and pulls the tape from across my lips and the
rag from inside my mouth. He’s wearing a mask. All I can see are his deep blue
eyes. I feel the other person’s presence behind me, but I can’t see them.

“Sit
up,” he says, and I obey. As I look down at my soaked shirt, some of the red
lingerie underneath shows through. The shirt is now stuck to my skin. I’m
scared to death. I don’t know these men. What if they try to rape me?

“I bet
you’re wondering why you’re here,” the other man says, looking at me. He too is
wearing a mask. His eyes are brown.

“What
do you want?” I ask coldly.

“Your
boyfriend stole lots and lots of money from some very important people… We had
to teach him a lesson.”

“I don’t
know what he was involved in.”

“You
don’t need to know. We want to collect on what he owed us.”

“And
how am I supposed to do that if you’ve kidnapped me?”

“We’ll
get your new boyfriend to flip the bill.”

“This
has nothing to do with him. Let me go and I’ll give you the money.”

They
both laugh.

“You
think we’d make it that simple?”

“Why
are you doing this to me? What did I ever do to you?”

“We
tried to make this easy for you, but you had to go complicate things. Your
boyfriend fucked with the wrong person.”

“Take
me to the bank right now. I’ll get you the money you want. Please let me go.”

The
two men look at each other. I start to wonder if they’re the ones really behind
this, or if there is someone else behind the scenes. They keep on referring to
the so-called
people
that Richard stole from, as
if it’s not themselves. 

“How
much are they paying you to hold me here? How much did they pay you to kidnap
me?”

They
look at each other but don’t answer.

“Look,
lady. You’re asking too many fucking questions. Here,” Blue Eyes says, throwing
a McDonald’s bag onto the bed. “This is going to be your only meal for the day,
so I suggest you enjoy it.”

“Can
you please set my hands free and turn on the light?”

“Hands
free, no. Light, yes,” Blue Eyes responds.

“How
am I supposed to eat?”

He
pulls a bunch of keys from his dirty jeans pocket.

“Lean
forward,” he says.

I obey.
He unlocks the cuffs from behind my back but then slaps them on in front of me.

“Here.
That should give you enough wiggle room to eat.”

“How
much money do you want?”

“Lady,
shut the fuck up, or I’ll stick my dick in your mouth and make you.”

I keep
silent. That thought alone reminds me that they’re dangerous. I have to find a
way to get out of here.

They
exit the room, leaving on a small night light. It’s enough for me to see what
looks like old target practice gear stacked against the wall.

*     *     *

My
ringing phone startles me. I’ve been resting my head on the counter. As I look
up, all heads turn my way.

I look
at the screen.

“It’s
her brother,” I say. Everyone resumes their duties.

“Any
word?” he asks.