Promises

by Susan Rodgers

  Zach fingered his cell phone, pushed the home button and watched as the screen lit up with texts from Hilary. His wife was with the kids at Kayla’s place in Dunbar, and she was keeping a close eye on the Internet and television updates. But he already knew the answer. He didn’t need to read one of Hil’s texts to find out. Kayla’s boyfriend Paul had called him earlier.

  Staring at the phone, Zach nodded. “Yeah.”

  Somehow, intuitively, Josh knew that the answer would be yes. He shoved his chair back and stumbled the few steps to the barren wall of the sparse little room. Leaning against the wall, his left arm above his head and his right on his hip, he pushed his forehead against the cool cream surface. He wanted to smash his head against the institutional wall, but that wouldn’t help Jessie. He wheeled around and faced Zach.

  “Well,” he said without feeling. “You’ll all know then that it wasn’t me, won’t you? I’m sure they’re testing her…whatever the hell it is they do.”

  Zach sat, numb. This whole situation was unbelievable.

  “Rape kit,” he droned quietly.

  After a minute to process what that entailed, Josh screeched his chair back a few feet and sat down before he fell down. He hung his head in his hands.

  “Usually that takes a week or so but seeing as it’s Jessie I expect they’ll have an answer in a few days. Look, Josh. If you say that you didn’t do this to her, then I believe you. Okay?”

  “Ha,” Josh retorted. “I’m guessing you’ll be the only one.”

  Zach reached out and rested a comforting hand on Josh’s arm. “They’ll come around.”

  He then decided it was time to get down to business. “I’ll go see Charles right away, okay? Jessie’s in surgery, so…” Josh looked up quickly. Zach added, “Her wrist. I think the left one, the opposite of you. In Seattle that Christmas, you broke your right wrist, if I recall correctly.”

  His voice low, Josh managed, “Figures. Even in this, we complement each other.”

  Zach continued. “With Jessie in surgery, Charles and Dee have gone home for some privacy and to sort things out with their publicist. I’ll hit North Van before I go back to Kayla’s place. Tomorrow I’ll be back here with a lawyer in tow. Maybe Paul too, as an advisor to us, although I know this isn’t his specialty. I don’t know. We’ll get this sorted out.”

  He watched Josh balance on the edge of the metal chair trying in vain to stay in control of his emotions, and wished they were kids again with hope for the future still a fabric of their beings. Remembering the neighborhood rides they took on their bicycles with little Kayla following, her small legs furiously pedaling in order to keep up, Zach felt heartsick. The more he sat there with his brother the more he believed Josh could not have intentionally beat Jessie to a pulp.

  He rose. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Keep the faith, baby bro.”

  Josh pushed back his chair and walked him to the door. “Promise me, Zach. Promise me you’ll get Matt to put some extra protection on Jessie. Whoever did this…if he wants to finish the job…” Josh grabbed Zach just above his elbows, intent on getting him to listen, to take him seriously.

  Zach patted him lightly on the cheek. He nodded. “No worries, Josh. Jessie will be safe. I promise.” His gut clenched. Geez, I hope that is a promise I can keep.

  As he walked away escorted by a uniformed officer, the sharp metal clinks and clangs of the jail unnerved him, but he felt somewhat relieved. You couldn’t look into pained eyes like those of his brother and think that he was in any way capable of such a heinous crime. Anyways, the forensic exam would be the proof they needed, that everyone needed, to ease their own minds. It was too bad that human nature required such rock solid proof but it would be necessary, given Josh’s occasionally unbalanced history, his violent battles with drugs and with his own father. It was just unfortunate that such proof would likely be required by Josh’s own friends and family, people who should be loyal and trusting no matter what twists and turns life decided to hand them.

  On the way out, the officer gave Zach a quick rundown on Province of British Columbia law. In order to keep Josh in custody, three things would have to come into play. The investigating officer would have to prove occurrence - that the assault actually happened; identity, that the accused person was the one who made the attack; and consent - that the attack was not consensual sexual activity. Given Jessie’s disturbing evidence - a battered and bruised body that depicted wounds typical of a physical and sexual assault - occurrence could be easily proven. It would be up to the rape kit to determine whether it was Josh who forced her to have sex. Because of the celebrity nature of the attack, and his own safety against upset fans, the police were keeping Josh in custody pending results. If that came out against his favor, he would be held pending a hearing before the judge, who then had the discretion to decide whether he still posed a threat to Jessie, or whether he could be safely released. If the forensics proved Josh’s innocence at least in the rape, he would be immediately released.

  Josh sat at the metal table and felt his panic rise once Zach left the room. He started on the inevitable what ifs. What if Zach wasn’t welcome at the Keating house, what if they doubted him? Dee hated Josh anyway, there was no way she would be open to the idea that there was some other unbalanced soul out there taunting and hurting the girl she loved. What if they couldn’t catch this maniac?

  The cop grunted and told Josh to get his ass up. He led him out the door to a cold cell that stank of piss where he would spend the night on a rock hard mattress. The biggest question of all was rolling around in Josh’s mind. Why did Jessie place the blame on him?

  Josh’s lonely footsteps echoed hollowly during that long walk to his overnight cell. Not once did he worry about himself or how all of this would damage his career, his reputation, regardless of the truths that would inevitably emerge.

  He was a good man.

  ***

  Zach thought about his conversation with Josh as he navigated the heavy traffic on the Lions Gate Bridge. He was nervous about facing the Keatings, but Zach had long been accustomed to fighting Josh’s battles with - and for - him. He pulled into the curved driveway of the pretty yellow home and marveled that it could still look so lovely and fresh on such a dark day, the garden’s invigorating lavender scent a welcome reminder that there was still beauty to behold even in the presence of evil. There were a number of cars in the driveway. He recognized Charlie’s infamous 911 Porsche. There were a few whose owners he speculated about. And there was Jonathon’s BMW SUV, parked crookedly, as if the producer and loyal friend to Charles and Dee had needed to emerge from it in a hurry. Matt’s Audi was also there, which surprised Zach until he rationalized that likely there were others from his security detail posted at St. Paul’s, which meant that this rag-tag family was likely in the midst of a meeting about the day’s events. He gulped, and fought down the nausea that threatened to erupt in Deirdre Keating’s pink roses.

  Zach gave Hilary a quick call before entering the fray. He had to dial three times before he was calm enough to speak, and before his shaking hands would cooperate.

  “Hey Hilary.”

  “Zach. How is he? The media is crucifying him.” She had the television volume on low so the kids couldn’t hear. They were playing with Paul in the kitchen, laughing hysterically as they built boxy little houses with Lego and then destroyed them with tiny matchbox cars.

  “He’s holding it together. Barely. Hil - he insists that it wasn’t him.”

  She was silent for a moment. “Why would she say it was Josh if it wasn’t? What’s the point in that?”

  “I don’t know. I’m working on that. But right now I’m at Charles and Dee’s place. I’m hoping they’ll let me in. I don’t know, maybe this isn’t such a good idea.”

  He was losing his nerve. He’d almost forgotten why he was there.

  Hilary spoke up. “I’ve already had some calls, Zach. He’s been pulled off the Susanne Bier film. She won an Oscar for that film
on bullying, what’s it called? In a Better World. She can’t have a man who beats women in her next picture. I don’t know what Jonathon will do. Cut him back or something. I don’t know.” She was close to tears. They’d tried so hard to get Josh back on the right path.

  “It’s okay, Hilary. There are more pressing issues right now anyway. If Josh didn’t hurt Jessie, then there’s someone out there who did.”

  He waited for the catch in her breath, which came instantly. “Zach.” That was all she could manage until she processed what he’d said. Then, “I don’t want it to be Josh, of course I don’t, but that would mean there’s someone still out there…”

  “Yeah. Exactly.” Zach looked up at La Casa, with its capacious curved entry flanked by Dee’s exquisite talent for garden design. Her English roses were magnificent, strong and robust, like the woman herself. Zach sighed. “And on that lovely note, I guess I’d better go try to convince the lion lady to see beyond her closed mind. Wish me luck, Hil.”

  From the other end came a quiet “Luck, Zach.” And then, “Be safe, okay?”

  “Yeah. Love you, Mrs. Sawyer.”

  “Love you back, Mr. Sawyer.”

  He held the phone in his hand for a minute and felt like he’d lost the one connection that was keeping him sane this day. Oh, well. An hour or so and he would be back with his wife and kids where he felt he belonged. Vaguely Zach wondered if Josh would ever experience such bliss.

  Carlotta met Zach at the door with a look of trepidation and a handful of soaked Kleenex. She knew Zach from previous visits accompanying his wife Hilary, Josh’s manager, who had met with Deirdre on “Josh and Jessie” business.

  “Ah. I don’t know, Mr. Sawyer, if this is a good time for you to be here. Everyone’s pretty upset. They’re just waiting to hear back from the hospital before heading back over.”

  He frowned. “I understand, Carlotta. To tell you the truth, I don’t really want to be here either. But I have something to say that can’t wait. I need to talk to Charles, at least.”

  The clinking of ice cubes dropping into a glass caught Zach’s attention. Someone was fixing a drink in the nearby kitchen. It was Charlie, who needed a break from the heavy tension outside. He happened to glance through the doorway and see a very forlorn Zach standing in the opulent entryway. Charlie wandered over, holding his bourbon as if his life depended on it. Which, that day, it kind of did.

  “Zach.”

  Zach watched as his brother’s old friend from their early teen years took up a tired stance against the wall while Carlotta shoved the bundle of damp Kleenex deep in her apron pocket before marching back to the deck by the pool, where she needed to serve more drinks to keep sane the tense folks at this unscheduled gathering.

  “He didn’t do it.”

  Charlie shrugged. “She says he did.”

  “She wasn’t exactly thinking straight at the time.”

  “The police talked to her. So did the doctors.”

  “What did she say to Charles and Dee?”

  “She won’t talk to them. She won’t talk to any of us.”

  Obviously hurt by Jessie’s choice to shut him out, Charlie’s face was drawn and his eyes were swollen. Zach noticed that the shadows under the actor’s eyes were even more pronounced by the unforgiving light of the overhead chandelier when Charlie lowered his chin. Which he did, in resignation.

  “Except for Steve. For some inane reason.” Charlie shrugged.

  “Look, Charlie - Josh is terrified. And if he’s telling the truth…”

  Charlie clued in rather quickly, at that. Maybe because he’d seen how Jessie had looked at Josh over the months they were together, maybe simply because he wanted to see her happy again…for whatever reason, Charlie also wanted to believe that Josh was innocent. He straightened then, and turned and gestured Zach out the back door towards the others.

  As expected, Zach received a frosty reception on the pool deck. But he steeled his nerves and spoke with courage and determination.

  “I believe Jessie is still in danger.”

  Dee straightened; they all did, reacting to this turn of events.

  “You’ve got some nerve,” Dee spit at him, though rather hesitantly. Was it possible that he was right? Or was he just gas lighting them, trying to take the pressure off of Josh?

  “Dee, I know you don’t like Josh. I know you’ve never liked him, to be frank.” He wanted to add because you’re a bitch lion lady, but he managed to keep his cool simply because despite her obvious animosity towards his brother, Josh had not once spoken against her. And because Jessie loved her.

  He continued. “It’ll come out in a few days anyway. But maybe we don’t have that long…” Everyone winced at the reference to the fact that Jessie was raped. A sob came from Carlotta at the bar. She had not been able to stop crying since receiving the awful news. Giselle got up and gave the maid a generous hug.

  Charles glanced over at Matt. Should they take Zach seriously?

  Matt stepped forward. If there was ever any kind of threat against his girl, he had the responsibility to take it seriously. “Zachary. Talk.”

  Swallowing nervously, Zach told them that he’d just been to the jail, that Josh was beside himself with fear, insisting he hadn’t hurt Jessie, and therefore someone else out there had. Immediately, without consulting Charles, Matt got on the phone to Dan. He stepped up Jessie’s security at the hospital. Hell, Charles Keating could afford it. What he couldn’t afford was to lose Jessie Wheeler.

  Dee couldn’t bite her tongue. She didn’t have Josh to scream at now, but she had his brother, whom she really felt was just trying to cover up for Josh. Besides, she was on her way to becoming royally sloshed. “I always knew he was a loser, that brother of yours. From the moment I helped Jonathon cast him, I knew. I expect he’s going to lose some jobs over this, including Drifters.”

  With a glance at Jonathon, Charles spoke sharply. “Deirdre. That’s enough.”

  She continued from her comfortable recline on a big chaise lounge. “He just sucked his way into Jessie’s life, like some gob sucking jellyfish sucker thing…” She emphasized the word sucker and, since she was drunk, it came out writhing and threatening.

  “Deirdre! Enough!” That got her attention. Charles glanced sideways over at the despondent Jonathon again. Dee got the message.

  Assessing the level of her inebriation, Jonathon stared hard at Dee, and then he looked uncomfortably back at Zach. He gripped his martini glass until his knuckles were white. He was sitting at a table with Charles, a nine o’clock to his friend’s midnight. He asked Zach to sit, by gesturing to a chair he pulled out from the table near him. Charlie walked slowly over and took the opposite chair and sank into it with relief that something else could hold his aching body up for a while.

  Jonathon spoke directly to Dee first. “Josh will not lose his job on Drifters, even if…if…even if it’s proven that he did…that he’s guilty.”

  “Jessie’s not a liar, Jon.” That was from Charles. Dee sat there across from them in her big chaise and looked smug. Zach noticed that she had her cell phone clenched tightly in one hand.

  Uneasy, Jonathon peered over his reading glasses at Zach. “There’s something you should know.” He yanked the glasses off his head. He had been using them to read a text from Maggie, who had just informed her producer that Jessie was resting comfortably.

  Zach frowned. He was intrigued by the fact that this snowy haired man who he knew Josh greatly admired, and who’d been around their house a lot when they were kids, was planning to keep Josh on as cast even when all hell had broken loose around him. A tumbler of bourbon was set gently before him - Carlotta was heartsick, but still able to care for others. Accepting it gratefully, Zach shot an appreciative look up to the emotional maid, who squeezed his shoulder. Turning his attention to the producer, Zach then settled a little into his chair. What Jonathon had to say must be important. Everyone around them had suddenly become very quiet.

 
“Zach…I had my reasons for casting your brother. You see, I…when you were small…your father was away a lot, making films and bedding other women. Your mother, she was…lonely.” He glanced up at Giselle, who knew, and who had long been telling him he should tell Josh the truth about his paternity, and who encouraged her husband now with a gentle smile. “I fell in love with her. And she with me.”

  As the lights came on and Zach’s quizzical expression turned to wonder, Charlie slammed down his glass, making everyone jump. “Holy shit!” he hollered.

  The others didn’t react at all, including Carlotta, who managed to stand frozen and just take this all in as she stood at the bar preparing some hummus and vegetables for the downtrodden group.

  Zach emptied a healthy swig of bourbon into his suddenly dry mouth. He needed it, as he suddenly felt very woozy. “And Kayla?” he uttered, shocked.

  Jonathon shook his head. “Your dad started working at home more, remember? He got the message loud and clear. He loved your mother too. Very much.”

  “But not Josh, obviously.”

  Wriggling in his seat, Jonathon decided not to leave anything to Zach’s imagination. “Not so much, no. And your mother and I, well, we talked about her leaving the marriage but she was old fashioned, afraid of what people would think. And I think that in all honesty she really loved your father too. Although he made it pretty hard sometimes.”

  As he let the news sink in with Zach, Jonathon looked up at Charlie, who had a crazy smile on his pale face.

  Charlie was succinct. “Somehow I don’t think this news is going to help Josh much, seeing as the only job he’s going to get to keep is going to be the mercy role.”

  Zach shifted uncomfortably as Charles came to his brother’s rescue. “He’s proven he’s a damn good actor, Charlie. And maybe - just maybe…” He shook his head.

  Finally off the phone, Matt spoke tersely and efficiently. He focused on Zach. “What evidence can Josh give us today to make us believe there is someone else out there who hurt Jessie? Also, if there is someone, who the hell is it? Who should we be looking for? Our friend from Charleston?”