by Tina Folsom
From the corner of his eye, he saw the man who’d been reading his newspaper on the boat next to his watch them with interest.
“I can prove it. Tara!” Jay called out toward the boat. He looked over his shoulder. “Tara!”
But there was no reply.
“Sir, put the coffee down and turn around,” the policeman insisted once more.
“If you’re calling for the young woman,” the man from the other boat interrupted. “She’s gone.”
Jay spun his head to him. “What?”
“Yeah, some middle-aged couple came and took her away. She was kicking and screaming.”
“Fuck!”
In the next instant, he was tackled by one of the policemen. Jay dropped the coffee and pastries and landed on the ground. Seconds later he was handcuffed.
“Don’t you see what’s going on here?” he ground out, his cheek pressed to the wooden planks of the dock. “Somebody set me up!” And he didn’t have to be a psychic to figure out who: Tara’s parents.
“Heard it all before,” the policeman who’d handcuffed him said. He proceeded to frisk him, checking for weapons and anything else Jay had on him. Then he recited the Miranda rights, “You have the right to remain silent…”
Jay didn’t even listen as the officer read him his rights. His mind was already working. He had to act quickly, before Tara’s parents could whisk her away.
“I can prove who I am. I have ID.”
“Didn’t find any on you.”
Jay jerked his head toward the yacht. “On my boat.”
“Nice try. Let’s go.”
Both officers grabbed him and pulled him up, dragging him toward the shore.
“I want my lawyer,” Jay hissed.
“You’ll get your phone call when we’re at the station.”
Gritting his teeth, he looked over his shoulder toward the man on the other boat. “Did you hear where they were taking Tara?”
“The man said something about a chartered plane. Not sure.”
Jay nodded. There was a small private airport about a half hour’s drive away. That’s where they were heading.
Reluctantly, he let the two policemen lead him to the police car and shove him onto the back seat. Instead of getting into the car immediately, one of them walked up to the onlookers that had gathered.
“What’s happening, Frank?” one bystander asked.
The policeman jerked his thumb toward the car. “Guy stole a yacht.”
Jay clenched his teeth. Fucking idiots! If they’d only let him get his wallet from the boat, he could clear up this misunderstanding in a second. And now these country bumpkins were wasting even more time by chatting with the locals. Time Jay didn’t have.
“Damn it, what are we waiting for?” Jay yelled. “Take me to the fucking police station so we can get on with it!”
The policeman looked over his shoulder. “He seems pretty eager to go to jail.”
The crowd laughed at that.
Finally, the two policemen decided to get into the car.
“About time,” Jay ground out. “While you’re chatting it up out there, my girlfriend is being kidnapped.”
As the driver started the car and pulled away, the other guy looked back at Jay. “I don’t think I like you.”
Jay narrowed his eyes. “That’s mutual.”
It seemed to take an eternity until they finally pulled up to a small, one-story building with the words Police Department written over the entrance.
The moment the two officers led him into the building, Jay repeated his demand, “I want my lawyer now.”
The two officers exchanged a look. “Pain in the butt, that guy,” one of them said.
“Just let him make his damn phone call, so he’ll finally shut up.”
Not too gently Jay was shoved toward a counter. Then the policeman who’d handcuffed him removed the handcuffs and pressed the receiver of a phone into his hand.
“You’ve got two minutes.”
Jay didn’t lose any time. He dialed the direct line of his lawyer in New York. The call was connected almost immediately.
“Yeah?”
“Stephen, it’s Jay Bohannon. Listen, I got arrested in South Carolina. I need you to do the following things.”
“Jay, what the hell? What did you get arrested for?”
“It’s a misunderstanding. I don’t have time to explain. You need to call Charlie Taylor for me. Write down his number.” He rattled off the number. “Tell him to get to the Max Cannon private airstrip immediately and make sure the plane carrying Tara doesn’t take off. I don’t care what he needs to do. Whatever it takes, I’ll take responsibility for it. Got that?”
“Yeah, got it.”
“Then get the ownership papers of my prototype yacht, a copy of my passport and my drivers license and fax it all to the police station here.” He looked at the policeman who’d arrested him. “What’s the fax number here?”
One of the policemen shoved a business card in front of him.
Jay read the number on it back to his lawyer. “Got it?”
“Got it, Jay. Is there anything else you need? Do you need me to fly down there?”
“No. That’ll clear it up. Hurry. But call Charlie first. Tell him it’s urgent. He has to stop that plane.”
“I’m on it.”
There was a click in the line.
Jay released a long breath. He’d done everything he could. Now he had to wait and trust that Charlie would understand how important it was to stop Tara’s parents from taking her away from him.
“Let’s book ‘im then.”
“Don’t waste your time. I’ll be out of here in less than an hour,” Jay prophesied.
And then Tara’s parents would get an earful about snatching Tara from him and having him wrongfully arrested.
29
Jay’s patience was wearing thin. He kept looking at the clock that hung on the wall opposite the holding cell they’d put him in, while he listened to the goings-on in the small police station. The place was basic, the furniture and equipment past their prime. Clearly, they didn’t have the funds to run the place properly.
The two policemen who’d arrested him seemed fresh out of the police academy, and besides a civilian employee who appeared to work in an administrative capacity and another police officer who was only a few years older than the two kids who’d grabbed him, there didn’t seem to be anybody else working here. Whoever the police chief was, he wasn’t at the station.
Jay paced in the small cell, hoping that Charlie had been fast enough and reached the airstrip before the plane carrying Tara could take off. And that he’d come up with something to stop the plane from leaving.
Jay wrung his hands, feeling powerless in his current situation. For all the money he had, all the worldly goods, they meant nothing when he couldn’t be with Tara. He realized that now. It didn’t matter that they’d only known each other for a short time, less than three weeks in fact, but just like Paul had felt that Holly was the right person, so did Jay know that Tara was that person for him. And nobody would come between them, not after Tara had finally accepted him the way he was.
“You’re free to go.”
Jay pivoted and stared at the police officer who suddenly stood outside the cell. He took a key from his pocket and unlocked the door.
“Everything checked out, Mr. Bohannon. Sorry for the inconvenience.”
He nodded and stepped out of the cell. He’d known that once his papers arrived, it would only take minutes to verify that all was in order. But he wasn’t relieved yet. “I need a ride.”
The police officer walked toward the reception area. “You can call a taxi from the phone up front.”
“Hey, Dan, we’ve got an altercation at the Max Cannon airfield. Let’s go,” the other policeman called out from the dispatch area.
“Ah, shit, what’s wrong today? We never have that many incidents in one day!” the officer replied and rushed to his colleag
ue.
“Wait! Take me with you. I need to get to that airfield,” Jay called after him.
The officer looked over his shoulder. “We’re not a taxi service.”
“It’s my girlfriend. She’s been kidnapped.”
The police officer frowned and exchanged a look with his colleague. He seemed to contemplate his next action.
“Please,” Jay added. “I can help clear everything up if you take me with you.”
Finally the officer nodded. “Let’s go.”
~ ~ ~
Tara heard the engines of the chartered Learjet being throttled back. She felt the brakes being applied and the jet slow instead of speed up on the runway. It finally came to a halt in the middle of it, engines idling.
“What the hell?” her father griped, already loosening his seatbelt.
Before he could jump from his leather seat, the pilot’s voice came through the intercom. “I’m sorry for the delay, but there is an obstacle on the runway. I’m radioing the tower for assistance.”
“Obstacle?” her mother muttered and looked out her side of the plane. “I don’t see anything. Allen, what’s going on?”
“I know as much as you do, Elaine,” he ground out and jumped up.
Tara looked out through the window next to her but couldn’t see anything either. Had an animal wandered onto the tarmac by accident? Truth be told, she hoped it was the case. Any delay in returning to New York was welcome.
Her father banged on the door to the cockpit. When it opened a few seconds later, Tara leaned out of her seat to catch a glimpse through the large cockpit window to see what the pilot was seeing. But her father blocked most of her view.
Tara released her seatbelt.
“What’s going on? Why aren’t we taking off?” her father barked at the pilot.
“There’s a truck on the runway,” the pilot replied, pointing to the nose of the plane.
Tara jumped from her seat and rushed to the cockpit door, peering past her father. What she saw put a smile on her face. A sign saying Charlie’s After-School Boating was painted onto the side of the truck. The hood was open and an old man was leaning over it as if he was trying to repair something.
“Charlie,” she murmured to herself. If Charlie was here, trying to stop the plane from taking off, Jay couldn’t be far.
Her father pivoted and pinned her with a furious glare. “You know who that is?”
Involuntarily, she stumbled back a few paces, but her father grabbed her upper arms, his fingers digging painfully into her flesh. “Who is this?”
“Damn it, Tara, what’s going on here?” her mother added, her voice shrill and impatient. “What have you done now?”
Tara smiled involuntarily, looking over her shoulder. “I’ve done nothing.” She turned her head back to face her father. “That’s all my boyfriend’s work I believe. So I guess you lost this round.”
“How dare you—”
Her father’s voice was drowned out by a voice coming from a megaphone from outside. “This is the police. Pilot of aircraft N37PAR, please turn off your engines. This is an order.”
Tara glanced out one of the side windows and saw a police car with its lights flashing. It had pulled up close to the plane. She pulled herself from her father’s grip.
The pilot exchanged a look with the co-pilot before looking over his shoulder. “Sorry, sir, but I have to do what the police say.”
A moment later the engine noise died down completely.
“Open the door to the fuselage,” came the next order from the police.
Inside, Tara felt giddy with excitement. She could barely contain herself until the co-pilot had opened the door to the outside and lowered down the stairs. Moments later, a police officer entered.
“What’s going on here?” Tara’s father addressed him instantly, his voice booming. “Why aren’t you removing that truck from the runway?”
“Mr. Pierpont?” the police officer asked.
“Yes, that’s me.”
“We’ve been told that you’re holding a Tara Pierpont against her will and are planning to take her across state lines,” the police officer said calmly.
“That’s preposterous! Who’s spouting such nonsense?”
“I am!”
Tara whipped her head to the door again and saw Jay enter the fuselage. “Jay!” She flew into his arms.
He pressed her to him. “Are you all right, darlin’?”
“Now I am,” she murmured.
“What is this?” her father growled. “Arrest this man! He’s an imposter and a thief!”
Tara looked over her shoulder, watching as the policeman raised his eyebrows and corrected her father, “I’m afraid, sir, that accusation is incorrect. We verified the identity of this man. And there’s no doubt that this is Mr. Bohannon and that he is the owner of the yacht that was falsely reported as stolen. And if I find out that you were the one making such a false report, there’ll be consequences.”
Tara’s mother pointed at Jay. “But this man is a waiter!” She glared at Tara. “You said so yourself.”
“I tried to tell you who he is, but you wouldn’t listen,” Tara replied.
“Bohannon from Hannon Boats?” her father asked.
“Yes, sir, I’m the owner of Hannon Boats, not that it should matter. Your daughter loves me, no matter who I am. And that’s all you should care about.”
“But, but,” her mother stuttered. “Why didn’t you tell us you were dating Mr. Bohannon? We would have given our consent. We would never put any stones in the way of your happiness.”
Tara huffed. “Yes, as long as I’m happy with a rich man, isn’t that what you mean?”
“Well, let’s not discuss something like that in front of strangers,” her mother said quickly.
“No, let’s,” Tara insisted. “You have no right to tell me who I can or can’t love.”
Her father cleared his throat. “Mr. Bohannon, I apologize for the misunderstanding. I hope this will not taint our relationship in the future.”
Jay nodded. “Mr. Pierpont, I hope you understand that our relationship will depend on the decisions your daughter makes. I won’t go against her wishes.”
Tara turned her face to Jay, smiling up at him. He had her back. She mouthed a silent thank you to him.
“I understand, of course,” Tara’s father assured him quickly. “We only want Tara’s happiness. I hope your intentions toward our daughter are—”
“Stop it, Dad!” Tara interrupted her father. “After all you guys put me through you have to ask him that? I’m not a child! Jay and I will decide what we want when we’re ready.”
Tara’s mother opened her arms and walked toward her. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m so happy for you. Obviously this young man really cares about you. Whatever you two decide is fine with us, right Allen?” She exchanged a look with her husband.
“Of course. We’ll support you fully.”
Tara refrained from rolling her eyes. Yes, now they were supporting her, because she was dating a rich guy. It had looked very different only minutes ago when they’d thought she was in love with a poor waiter.
She would forgive them, of course. After all, they were her parents, but they also had to learn a lesson. She would let them stew for a little while longer.
Tara lifted her eyes to look at Jay. He smiled and nodded toward her mother. “Thank you, Mrs. Pierpont, I appreciate that. And let me assure you that I’m more than happy to put this incident behind me and forget the whole thing.”
He tossed a sideways glance at the police officer. “I’m happy to pay any fines associated with my friend Charlie blocking the runway.”
The officer made a dismissive hand movement. “That won’t be necessary. My report will show that Mr. Taylor had a senior moment and took a wrong turn when his truck broke down.”
Jay shook his hand. “Thank you, officer.”
“It’s the least I can do, Mr. Bohannon, considering all the things you do for
this community.”
“Just don’t tell Charlie about the senior moment, or you’ll never hear the end of it.”
The officer grinned. “Thanks for the tip.” Then he nodded to Tara’s parents before leaving the plane.
“I think we should leave, too,” Jay suggested.
“But won’t you stay a while so we have a chance to get to know you better?” Tara’s mother suggested, a sweet smile on her face. She was all future mother-in-law now, employing her charm to win Jay over.
“I’d love to some other time,” Jay agreed. “When Tara and I are back in New York, I promise we’ll have dinner.”
“That would be wonderful,” Tara’s mother replied.
“Agreed then,” her father added, stretched his hand out and shook Jay’s. “No hard feelings. But as a father I need to watch out for my daughter. One day you might be in the same situation.”
With his free hand Jay pulled Tara closer to his side. “Yes, maybe one day.”
30
Charlie dropped them off at the marina, grinning from one ear to the other. They hopped out of his truck to say their goodbyes.
“I don’t know how to thank you,” Jay started. “If you hadn’t been there, I would have had to chase Tara all across the country.”
Charlie smirked and winked. “Always happy to help out. Especially when it concerns a girl.” He motioned to Tara, his eyes sparkling. “She’s a keeper, that one.”
Jay put his arm around Tara’s shoulders and drew her closer. “I know that.”
Tara blushed and dropped her lids. “Thank you, Charlie. I’m really grateful.” She pulled away from Jay and leaned toward Charlie, giving him a kiss on the cheek.
Now it was Charlie’s turn to blush. Jay grinned. He didn’t know that the crusty old dude had it in him. But clearly, he’d had a lot of fun today.
Jay reached his hand out to Charlie. He shook it.
“Ya take care of that girl o’ yours, kid.”
“You bet.”
“And don’t be a stranger. Ya made a difference here. Them kids know that. Ya oughta check in on ‘em occasionally to see what’s becomin’ of ‘em.”