Love, Lies & The D.A.

by Rohman, Rebecca

  “If you want to take a shower, there are towels in each bathroom, and I can get you a robe. Sorry, I have no men’s clothing.”

  “No worries, I’m sure I’ll be fine. The only thing I’m concerned about is my dogs.”

  “You have dogs?”

  He nods.

  “What breed?”

  “Two Rottweilers, Micky and Maggie.”

  “Awww, how sweet. I used to love dogs. I owned them growing up but not since I moved to the US.”

  “How long have you lived in the US?”

  “Sixteen years. I enrolled at UCLA for college, and I’ve been here ever since.”

  We head downstairs, and he sits at the island while I fix the coffee.

  “What are we going to do about the dogs?”

  “I’ll call the housekeeper and ask her to go in to check on them.”

  “Good. You have options.”

  He nods. “Tell me more about you. How’d you get to be so successful?”

  I hand him a cup of coffee and place the sugar and cream in front of him. I sit on the vacant stool next to him.

  “I wasn’t always successful. My dad died just after I graduated college… we weren’t expecting it. He had a massive heart attack the day after he returned from my graduation.”

  “I’m sorry. Is that him in the photo on the mantel?”

  “Yes. After the funeral I found out that he left me some money.

  I went on vacation by myself. During that time, I was supposed to be looking for a job. Instead, I found a project to focus on, and that happened to be my first small hotel. I wrote up a business plan and went to the bank and they gave me the money to get my first property. It was tiny, ten rooms, but I thought if I could make it as luxurious as possible, it could be something special. It took a few months before it did well, but eventually, I was operating year round at a hundred percent occupancy. Two years later, I got another. It was bigger, and the rest is history.”

  “How many locations are there now?”

  “Eight. I’d like to open another one, but I think next time, I’ll do that on the East Coast. Probably one in Miami, so I can have an excuse to go harass Bobby.”

  He smiles at my comment. I pour us each another cup of coffee, and we make our way to the sofa. He takes off his blazer, his shirt, and shoes and is now wearing a black T-shirt and blue jeans.

  “Where did you learn to speak French?”

  “I did it at school. Then my best—” I realize I was about to talk about Koto. I hesitate.

  “What?”

  “Nothing… I enrolled in an exchange program in Paris while at college, and I perfected my French there. What’s your story?” I ask.

  “There’s not much to tell. I haven’t lived a life nearly as glamorous as yours.”

  “I don’t know if I’d call it that. I worked really hard. Two jobs plus school full-time to be able to go on that trip.”

  He smiles. “I didn’t mean it like that. Paris is just…”

  “I know what you mean. There’s something about Paris.”

  “Anyway… Everything I know, I learned from my dad. After I left law school, he took me under his wing and taught me everything.”

  “How did he feel when you told him you were switching sides?”

  “He was supportive. He wished me good luck. He’d been DA as well, so he knew the amount of work it involved. He told me it was best for me to do it now as opposed to when I had a family. It requires a lot of sacrifice, and that usually means your family.”

  “Do you regret running?”

  “No. Being exposed to the other side has taught me many new things… forced me to see things from different perspectives.”

  “I think that’s all I need to know about your work. So tell me how you ended up buying a second home here.”

  “My parents used to bring us here as kids. I’ve always loved it here. When I became DA, I knew I’d need a weekend retreat quickly, so I got a home up here. Every weekend and holidays, I load Micky and Maggie in the vehicle, and we head up here.”

  “You seem to live a solitary life?”

  “I know it may seem that way now, but I didn’t plan it that way. My job ended my last relationship.”

  “Do you get lonely?”

  I’m shocked at my question, but he doesn’t seem perturbed by it.

  “Occasionally. I spend lots of time with my family. Many times, they come up here on the weekends too.”

  “Don’t remind me…” I laugh.

  “Megan told me she thought you were going to faint when you saw her at the house.”

  “I was mortified, but she covered it up well. At one point, I wasn’t even sure she remembered who I was.”

  “She doesn’t forget a thing.”

  “Could have fooled me… Have you ever been married?”

  “No. Engaged, but we didn’t quite make it down the aisle.”

  “Same here.”

  “I’m sorry you went through that. I can only imagine how you felt.”

  I sigh. “It’s been a very overwhelming and trying few months.”

  For some reason, I feel closer to him. Perhaps I need to tell him.

  “I have something to tell you…”

  “What is it?”

  “When I leave here, I won’t be coming back.”

  His face turns serious.

  “Why?”

  “Without going into too much detail, I think it’s dangerous for me to stay here. I found a tracking device on my car.”

  “The police could have put that there.”

  “That might be true… I found it this afternoon. Knowing what I do, I don’t think I’m safe here anymore. I don’t feel secure.”

  “Are you going to stay in San Francisco?”

  “I doubt it, but I don’t know where I’ll go next. Don’t worry, Mr. DA, I won’t be leaving the country.”

  “The thought never crossed my mind. Although at this point, you can go wherever you want. I’ll miss you. I started looking forward to my weekends because I knew there was a chance I’d run into you.”

  I flush but say nothing further. That awkward tension is developing between us again. I am about to ensure that I end it—at least for now.

  “I’m tired. I think I’m going to head to bed. Can I get you anything else?”

  “No. Thank you for letting me stay.”

  I was about to give a smart-ass response, but I change my mind.

  “You’re welcome.”

  I turn and head into my room. While I brush my teeth, the folded robes on the shelf catch my attention.

  I did promise him I’d get him one earlier.

  I grab one, as well as a new toothbrush and some toothpaste and a new bottle of my deodorant—it’s the best I can do. On the bed is one of Bobby’s Stanford T-shirts I stole when he was last here. I grab that as well.

  I head into the living room, but all the lights are out. He must have gone to bed. I head up the stairs, and the light from Bobby’s old room reflects under the door. I knock gently. He opens the door and stands before me, freshly showered and wrapped in just a towel. I almost want to reach out and touch his hard body. He’s toned and well defined, exactly what Adonis would look like. I realize I’m staring.

  “I’m… sorry… I brought you these. There’s that robe I promised and a toothbrush and some toothpaste… and a new bottle of deodorant. I’m sorry you’ll have to smell like me for a couple days… it’s all I have.”

  “Thank you,” he replies, grinning at me.

  “I also found a T-shirt I took from Bobby while he was here that should fit you. It’s clean. From your Alma Mater. I saw it and thought you might be able to use it.” I realize I’m babbling, but I can’t seem to shut up. “Also, if you’d like to wash what you were wearing, the laundry room is at the end of the hall. Everything you need is in there… I think that’s all…”

  He smiles at me and says nothing, but he leans over, places his hand on my cheek, and kisses me ge
ntly on my lips. I feel a charge of electricity run through my body, and I know I have to get out of there. Before it develops any further, I quickly turn on my heels and head down the stairs.

  When I arrive in the living room, through the French doors that go out to the terrace, I see someone trying to pry the door open. The hairs on my body stand erect. I scream, and immediately, the alarm goes off.

  Chapter 5

  At the sound of the alarm, the person runs away, and then the landline rings. Jonathan comes running down the stairs.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Someone was trying to break through the terrace doors.”

  I answer the phone. It’s the security company on the line. I go to the key pad and switch off the alarm.

  “Ms. McLean, are you alright?”

  “Someone tried breaking in. They ran away when the alarm went off.”

  “I’m sorry, but we won’t be able to get the police out to you right away. The avalanche has knocked down the bridge below you.”

  “Yes, I’m aware of that.”

  “Try to remain in a secure part of the house. We’ll try to get the police to you as soon as possible.”

  “I will. I don’t think they managed to break the door open.”

  As I talk on the phone, Jonathan’s wearing the Stanford T-shirt and jeans. He slips on his shoes and runs in the direction of the garage. He returns with a firearm in his hand. I don’t want him to go out. I quickly end the call with the security company.

  “Jonathan, please don’t go outside,” I shout, trying to put my body between him and the door.

  “Go sit on the couch, Jada. I know what I’m doing.” He gently pushes past me, ignoring my request.

  As he opens the door, I can hear what sounds like a boat speeding away from the docks.

  “They’re gone,” he says.

  On the terrace are snow and shoeprint tracks, and the trail leads through the snow, down to the pier below. I run inside, grab my camera, and start taking photos. I attach the zoom lens and photograph the tracks leading down to the docks. The damage to the door is minimal, but signs of forced entry are evident. I take photos of those as well.

  I return inside, and as the adrenalin dissipates from my body, my heart hammering ferociously in my chest replaces it. Jonathan pulls me in his arms.

  “Are you alright?”

  I nod, but give no verbal response. I am scared, but I try to put on a brave face.

  What has Richard gotten me into? A reporter wouldn’t do this.

  I pull away from him and close all the draperies. Then I head into the kitchen and turn on the kettle.

  “You want some tea?” I ask.

  “Sure,” he replies, placing the weapon on the island, standing next to me. “Did you recognize the person? Could you see who it was?”

  “No,” I mumble. “They were dressed in dark clothing with a mask.”

  “Could you tell me anything else? Their height, skin or hair color, weight?”

  “No. I came down the stairs and some movement caught my eye… I barely saw anything. It scared the hell out of me, then I screamed and the alarm went off and they ran away.”

  I try to spoon some sugar into the mug, but my hands tremble so violently, I spill it over the countertop.

  “Let me help you,” he says as he takes the spoon from me gently and encloses me in his arms. “Jada, don’t worry. It’s going to be okay.”

  The fear overwhelms my body. I shiver uncontrollably. The more I try to control my emotions, the more my body becomes totally consumed with anxiety.

  I pull away from him and walk to the couch. He is right behind me. I try to pull myself together but apprehension fills me. I wish I knew why this was happening. He makes the tea and returns, placing the gun on the end table beside him. We sit in silence staring into the roaring fireplace as he cradles one arm around my shoulders. I am emotionally exhausted and overwhelmed. At some point, I drift.

  I open my eyes. It sounds like sleet is pouring heavily outside. I cast my eyes around me. Jonathan is fast asleep, sitting on the sofa with his feet up on the ottoman. I lie on the couch with my head on his lap. One of his arms is over my waist. The other braces his head to the side. I glance at the clock on the wall. It’s eight in the morning, a couple hours since we probably fell asleep. I close my eyes once more and drift.

  I gently get up three hours later, being careful not to wake Jonathan, and head to my room. I need to use the bathroom.

  I sit on my bed and replay the night in my head. This situation is getting out of control. From the day I walked in on Koto and Richard, my life seems to be on a downward spiral.

  I pick up my cell phone. I need to call Charles to give him an update. I was supposed to be returning to San Francisco today. However, with the downed bridge, that won’t be possible until it’s repaired.

  He tells me to be careful over the next few days and to stay in touch. I grab a quick shower and get dressed in a pair of skinny grey jeans and a thick, plush pink sweater. When I’m done, I hear Jonathan’s voice. He sounds like he’s in some sort of heated exchange, although I can’t make out what he’s saying. I wait for the call to end then return to the living room.

  “Good morning.”

  His back is to me, and he’s looking through the drapes at the view.

  “Hi. Good morning to you too.”

  “What’s wrong? You sounded upset over the phone.”

  He smiles. “My dad called. He gave me a long lecture about appearances and ruining my career.”

  “Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?”

  He looks at me in agreement.

  “I’m sorry. I had to tell him what happened. He was expecting me today.”

  “There’s no need to apologize. I’m fine. You did the right thing.”

  He looks stressed. I’m not sure if it’s because of the conversation with his father or something else.

  “Are you okay? Is something bothering you?”

  “I’m fine,” he replies. “You look great.”

  “Trying to change the subject?”

  He chuckles.

  I go into the kitchen and start fixing breakfast.

  “What would you like?”

  “Surprise me. Can I help with anything?”

  “No. I think I’m good.”

  “While you do that, I’ll go take a look outside.”

  “Be careful, please.”

  He throws his blazer and his shoes on, and it doesn’t go unnoticed that he slips his gun in the back of his jeans. It then occurs to me that the incident that happened last night is probably what’s on his mind.

  I throw some ingredients together and make us an omelet with bacon and toast. By the time I’m done putting the food on the table, he returns.

  I pull the draperies open. It’s now raining but not heavily. I can still see some of the partial tracks from the intruder in the snow. I worry that this person will be back. What do they think I have? Worse, do they want to kill me as they did Richard? If so, why?

  “Did you see anything outside?” I ask while we eat.

  “Nothing new. A crew is surveying the bridge, though.”

  “Have they started anything?”

  “No. It looks like we’ll have to find a way to pass the time.”

  “What do you enjoy doing when you’re free?”

  “Skiing. I mountain bike a lot as well… I sail a lot in the summer.”

  “No wonder you got a second home here.”

  “You?”

  “Photography.”

  “Everything?”

  “I’ve dabbled a bit in all—landscapes, portraits, architecture. But landscapes and wildlife seem to be my favorite.”

  “I’m sure there will be a few winterscapes out there today. Maybe we can go on foot, see what catches your eye.”

  “Really?”

  “Sure. I’d love to see what you do.”

  * * *

  What an interesting turn of events. Right wh
en I think I’d have to stay away from her, Mother Nature steps in and sees to it that we stay together for an extended period of time.

  The positive side is that I get to know her better as a person. The negative… controlling my mind and my body. Last night when she brought me that robe, I was tempted to plaster her body with mine against that bedroom door and have her right there. Then I momentarily thought of going to her room and seducing her, but that came to an abrupt end when I heard her scream downstairs.

  The thought of her being hurt sent chills down my spine, and I admit it has taken great effort since then to let her out of my sight. I somehow wish I were involved in her case. I want to know who would want to hurt her and why. Or is this some mess that her ex got her into and she’s now clueless, with no idea what is going on around her.

  I was so tempted to ask Dad when I spoke to him earlier, but this is an ethical line that I have to be certain I don’t cross. No matter how innocent or well intentioned I am.

  The danger is, the closer I get to her, the more I want to know, the more I want to protect her. By doing that, I am risking my integrity. If this case were to go to trial, anyone who is even slightly suspicious can make a great case in front of a judge or the public as to why I should not be allowed to handle her case. The truth is, I don’t know that I can argue them wrong. The thought is exhausting.

  I’m glad we’re heading out the house; that way, I can occupy my mind with things other than Jada McLean’s physical attributes, her case, or the fact that someone tried to come after her in my presence last night. The good news is, I get to share time with her while she indulges in one of her passions, and that is a great thing.

  * * *

  We spend the rest of the morning trekking through the snow-covered streets, then after, we make our way to some of the lake’s shoreline. Everything is covered in a sea of white, and as time goes by, the clouds give way to blue skies.

  We take a short break, sitting at the water’s edge.

  “How’d you end up getting involved in photography?”

  “I guess I got it from my dad, in a way… He owned a camera, and on Saturdays, he’d take Bobby and me for long walks at the beaches and parks. One day, I asked him if I could try using his camera, and the rest is history. He bought me my first, then I was a member of the photography club in both high school and college, and it’s something I’ve held onto since then.”