“That’s right. Hold onto this tablet as well,” Phillip says, handing me the device. “Once that call comes through, make sure you have this on so we can communicate with you remotely.”
“Fine. Now, I’m having company over this weekend, so please don’t barge in here like a bunch of lunatics. I know how to reach you all if there is a problem.”
“That’s helpful. Thanks for letting us know,” Phillip replies, smiling, though I’m not certain I know why.
“Oh, and another thing… Since you all have ensured that I have no private life, I’d appreciate it if I didn’t see all of my private business all over the tabloids.”
“Ms. McLean, with all due respect, we don’t report to the tabloids,” Douglas says, grinning.
“Oh, don’t be a smart-ass. You know what I mean.”
The agents smile at me, and I know that they must know that Jonathan and I have been spending lots of time together. His recusal from my case was almost an announcement to the world that we were at the very least friendly with each other. To top it off, I’ve been driving his vehicle, a fact I’m sure the FBI are fully aware of.
The next morning, I wake up with my stomach in knots. I go through my usual routine, but I am ridiculously nervous. I suppose that looming call has me feeling like this. I need to find some way to relax.
Perhaps I should spend the afternoon fixing dinner. Cook something special. I will need to head to the store. Unfortunately, the nearest supermarket is in Carmel—half an hour away. Then again, that might be a good thing. I need to occupy my mind.
As I drive, I realize I really have no idea what Jonathan’s likes and dislikes are. I think he prefers red wine to white. I know he enjoys red meat and fish, but I don’t know if that means he doesn’t have an appreciation for other seafood or poultry. I guess I can use this weekend to learn about him as a person. I stock up my cart with things I remember he might enjoy and I head home.
Dinner is in the oven and the sun is getting ready to take its descent. I know Jonathan’s often in court till four. It doesn’t look like we’ll be having dinner at sunset, but I go about fixing things and prepare for his arrival.
I am in my bathroom and I’m about to step into the shower when my regular phone rings. My heart skips a beat. I quickly slip into my robe and look at the phone. The call is from a private number. This must be it. I head to the great room, sit at the kitchen island, turn on the tablet, and answer the phone.
“Hello.”
“Jada McLean?” asks the cold familiar voice.
“Yes.”
“You should have been expecting this call.”
“I have.”
“You have that money ready?”
“Um…. no. I’m afraid.”
And that’s the truth, because I can’t stop shivering.
“Afraid of what?”
Stay calm… relax…
“That the media will find out, and everyone will really believe I’m guilty, or that the police might find out and file extra charges.”
“You don’t have to worry about that.”
“How do I know?” I ask, sounding more composed.
“I have the power to make these charges disappear.”
“Are you the prosecutor? How do I know that you’re not some man off the street trying to get money out of me?”
“Lady, do you want to go to prison?” he shouts.
“Of course not. But if you want me to give you this money, you have to give me some sort of assurance that these charges will go away. What if I give you the money, and I still end up going to prison?”
“You’re going to have to trust me.”
“Well, I can’t do that. And it’s not like I can get that kind of money without making people suspicious. My banker would ask questions. My accountant would ask questions. What I’m I supposed to say to them?”
“I’d be happy to take the money in smaller amounts over a period of time.”
“I don’t know… all of this makes me nervous. I have to think about this.”
“You want to think about this? What’s there to fucking think about?”
He’s getting angry.
“Why don’t you give me your number? I’ll call you in a few days.”
He hesitates. I wonder if he’ll take the bait. I don’t want him to get suspicious.
I continue. “Or, if you like, you can give me your bank account number. If by Wednesday you see no deposit from me, it means no deal.”
A message comes in on the tablet—offer money. Sweeten the deal.
“If I choose to do this, I might be able to come up with a quarter of a million dollars by then. After that, we’ll need to make some arrangement for the rest.”
“Who’s telling you to ask me these questions? Did you talk to your DA boyfriend about this?”
“No!” I exclaim. “I swear to God, I didn’t. If he knew, he’d immediately call the police.”
He goes silent once more.
“Look, I realize this might be an opportunity for me to get out of this mess. But you have to realize all the people around me that could get suspicious. I wouldn’t be so stupid to tell anyone when I know this can help me. I don’t want to go to prison. This is the best I can do.”
There is silence, and more silence, and I pray to God he caves.
“Okay. I’ll call you on Wednesday for your decision. If you want to move forward, I will give you the account number for a bank in the Cayman Islands.”
Yes.
“You will hear from me by Wednesday, and this time, I need your decision… no extensions.”
“Fine.”
The call ends.
I sigh in what I guess you can call relief. I am so overwhelmed, I feel like my legs are going to buckle under me.
I hear a horn outside. I assume the FBI agents have made it here in no time, but as I open the door, it’s Jonathan. He’s getting out of his car. I run into his outstretched arms. I say nothing but violent tremors erupt in my body.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
I’m speechless. I hear another vehicle drive in, and as I look up, it’s the FBI agents in a civilian vehicle. The two agents step out of the car. Jonathan looks at them, then me.
“Did he call?”
I nod.
As the agents approach us, they both smile brightly. I’m not sure whether it’s at me or Jonathan.
“Jonathan Kole.” Phillip smiles brightly.
“Phillip Cross,” Jonathan replies and slaps his hand into Phillip’s then they embrace. They appear to know each other very well.
“Ms. McLean, you handled that call really well. We got a wealth of information that can lead to more info,” Douglas says.
I look at him, but I don’t really respond. At this point, I’m still sick to my stomach, and I’m standing outside talking to these men in a bathrobe—a short one at that. I finally feel able to talk.
“You all are welcome to come inside, but I need to go change,” I say softly.
They all look at me and nod their heads. Jonathan’s eyes don’t leave mine until I turn around and walk away.
I close myself in the bathroom, step into the jetted shower, and switch on the steaming hot water. Every one of the jets pounds against my body while the rain shower pours over my head and shoulders. I want this water to beat the nerves out of me. I need to pull myself together.
During the call, at times, it felt like another business negotiation. But I was also aware that the unsavory character that was at the other end of the line is very dangerous. For now, he sounds understanding. However, at certain points during that conversation, I could feel that man’s potential to become very nasty.
I take a deep breath. I guess I should tend to my guests outside. I step outside the shower and quickly towel dry my hair. My hair falls in ringlets above my shoulders. I keep it back with a thin headband and slip into a white long sleeve maxi dress.
When I enter the great room, the men are sitting around the k
itchen island drinking coffee and laughing. Maggie and Micky lie by Jonathan’s feet.
“You all know each other?” I ask, sneaking up behind them.
“Phillip and I are great friends, we were roommates at Stanford. And I’ve met Douglas several times,” Jonathan replies, framing my body in front of his.
“Nice… so what’s the verdict?”
“I don’t think I could have handled that call better myself. We got a big clue. We now know he has an account in the Cayman Islands. This narrows things down. That’s huge.”
“Cayman Islands must offer some great banking. My ex was stealing money from me and putting it in an account there.”
Everyone stills at my comment.
“He was?” Douglas asks.
“Yes.”
“Cooper sent us an email a second ago; the account number might be in that file he sent,” Douglas says.
Phillip pulls out his laptop then they look up the information.
“This may be a long shot, but I wonder if these situations are related…” Phillip continues.
“Why?” I gasp.
“Just a hunch. That account is in the name Clip Holdings,” he says.
“The investigators were having issues getting the signatories on the account,” I say to them.
“Well, that’s a problem we agents won’t have. We’ll get to work on that first thing Monday. They’re on central time over there. They’re closed,” Douglas replies.
“I can’t believe this. So whoever this is might have been working with Richard?”
“It may be so… that’s not confirmed, though,” Douglas responds.
“So how do we move forward?” I ask.
“The work is on our end for now. We’ll check the phone records to see if the same phone was used. If not, we’ll see if we can match the number to a name, get the location, that sort of thing. But the biggest things that we have to wait for are the signatories and information from that account. Once we find that out, the complexity of this case will change,” Phillip explains.
Douglas continues. “You get to enjoy your weekend. We’ll be up at the house with the rest of the team working on this. Unless there’s a problem, you won’t hear from us till Monday.”
We say our goodbyes, and while Jonathan parks his car in the garage, I pull dinner out of the oven. I’m having problems being present. I try to figure out what Richard got me involved in. I’m tense, nervous, and the wonderful evening I had been looking forward to seems to be a figment of my imagination.
The sun has set, but a gorgeous afterglow blasts through the skies. In the distance, though, I can see a grey patch looming. It looks like it will rain later.
I go through the motions setting the table and preparing for dinner, but my mind is hundreds of miles away. I am pulling some food from the warming drawers when I feel Jonathan’s hands on my shoulders.
“Did you look around while I was in the shower?” I ask.
“No. I was waiting for you to give me the grand tour.”
“It’s not that grand… there are just two bedrooms in this house. Come. I’ll show you.”
I give him a quick tour of the inside and then the exquisite outdoor pool area along with the intimate gardens that lead down to the private beach.
Once done, I leave him alone while he showers, and I continue with dinner preparations.
A while later, we’re eating, but mostly in silence. I need to snap out of this mood. I’m not being a very gracious host. Perhaps I need to indulge in some sort of conversation.
“I wasn’t sure what you like to eat…”
“I’m not picky. I eat almost anything.”
“What do you prefer to drink?”
“Mostly wine.”
“Red or white?”
“Either… Instead of asking things that are inconsequential, maybe you should tell me what’s bothering you.”
“They’re not inconsequential. I realized this afternoon that there’s a lot about you that I don’t know.”
“Maybe we can talk about those later. But for now, tell me what’s on your mind.”
I hesitate. “I know dealing with shady people, criminals, and crime may be part of your everyday life, but it’s not something that I’m used to or comfortable with… no matter what I’ve been through these last few months.”
“You’re worried about the offshore bank account.”
“I’m worried about my judgment. What did this man get me into? How could I have been so oblivious to whatever illicit activity he was involved in? The more I find out, the more I feel like a complete idiot.”
I push away my barely touched plate.
“Jada, his actions and behavior are by no means a reflection on you.”
“You sure? Do you have any idea how humiliating this has been?”
“I’m sure it has, but I think what you’ve been through is more likely to evoke empathy… not criticism.”
“I think you’re judging everyone else based on your standards.”
“Where’s the feisty woman I met four months ago?”
“What do you mean?”
“Back then, you didn’t seem to give a damn about what anyone thought…”
“Back then, I had no clue how my life was about to change. You might think I’m being silly, but this has made me question everything—even my own sanity. How could I be so stupid? How does a woman who managed to start and run a successful business on her own become so ignorant of all the things that were going horribly wrong in her own personal life?”
“Is that why you’re questioning what is going on with us?”
His question stuns me. “I… I question things with you because I don’t understand them. I don’t think I can remember a point in my life where I felt so insecure.”
I can’t believe I admitted that to him.
“What don’t you understand?”
I stare at him, almost afraid to respond.
“Tell me,” he says, holding my hand.
“Do you know, I don’t miss him? I don’t understand how I could have been so in love one second and not the next. I don’t understand why I have these feelings for you that I never had for him—he was the man I was supposed to marry. I don’t trust myself anymore. I’m sort of afraid to move forward because I don’t want to end up hurting you.”
“I don’t think that’s it at all,” he says. “I think you realized that you never really loved him… at least not the way you thought you did. And I think, because he’s dead, that makes you feel guilty. More guilty than you would ordinarily have felt had he not been killed.”
My eyes well up with tears. I look up and take a deep breath so they don’t fall. This is too much. What if he’s right?
“If you’re right, then how can I even trust what I think I feel for you? How do I know it’s real?”
“Maybe you should listen to your heart and stop trying to always rationalize everything.”
“You trust me way more than I trust myself.”
He smiles but doesn’t respond.
“We were supposed to be talking about criminal activity… How’d we end up here?”
“Maybe you have a lot more on your mind than you realize.”
I sigh.
“Are you disappointed in me?”
His hold on my hand tightens.
“No. I think that you’ve been through a great deal and you need time.”
“I’ve been alone for the last four months… Don’t you think that should be enough time?”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself… These are extenuating circumstances. Four months is not a long time to get over something like this, especially since we still haven’t uncovered all the details of this case. It’s not going to be easy, Babe.”
I hear him but choose not to respond.
“So moving along. I made chocolate cake for dessert. You want any?”
“Sure. You went all out. I’ll help you.”
We clean up together then en
joy dessert on the chaise by the pool. It’s completely dark now, but the outdoor lights shimmer against the water’s surface. The sound of the ocean crashing against the rocky bluff fills the air.
We’ve been chatting for hours and a heavy shower with strong gusts blows through. We run inside, and while I close the glass bifold doors, Jonathan heads to the bathroom. There’s a knock on the door. The only people who know I’m here apart from the FBI is Jonathan, and he’s here with me.
I look through the peephole. It’s Phillip. I open the door, and he hurries in from the rain. When I turn around, he’s taking off his wet coat. I outstretch my hand to take it from him, but I’m stunned to see Richard in front of me.
Chapter 9
I literally hear and feel the palpitations that erupt in my chest, chills run down my spine, and I feel I’m about to throw up.
“I know how this must look, Jada.”
“You’re supposed to be dead… What are you doing here?”
“I can explain…”
“Explain? Do you have any idea what you’ve put me through these last few months? Do you know I’m being charged with your murder?”
“Yes, I do.”
“I’m calling the police right now.”
I turn and head for the phone a few yards away, but I feel a sharp pain. He’s pulling my hair. He presses the shiny blade of a sharp knife against my neck. I feel like he’s going to slice my throat open.
“Please, don’t kill me,” I beg. “Just tell me what you want.”
He drags me towards the sofa.
“What I want is ten million dollars.”
In the background, the thunder roars and rain is pounding hard against the metal roof. I slip and fall near the coffee table.
“Jonathan, help me!” I scream.
As I try to get to my feet, he grabs one of my ankles, turns me around, and pins me down to the floor so I’m facing him.
“If you loved me so much, then how is it that you’ve moved on to another man already?”
A loud explosion blasts through the room. I wake. I realize I’ve been dreaming. We’re on the living room sofa. I lie with my head on Jonathan’s lap. Suddenly, I sit up. It’s pouring outside. I fell asleep while watching a movie.
Love, Lies & The D.A. Page 22