by S. E. Lund
“Yep,” Lara said and I heard the papers shuffle some more. I knew she was busy getting ready for court and felt bad I was bothering her. “I can go over around eleven. We should meet first and talk about the past few years. Get things straightened out. Bring your calendar if you have one. Bring your surgical calendar as well so we can know when you were in surgery, and when you had office or clinic hours.”
“Will do. Shall we meet at your office or the coffee shop?”
“Oh, let’s go to the coffee shop. I’ve got cabin fever, after working for weeks on this other case. I’ll have my own little black book of information since I was your pimp, so to speak.”
“I appreciate it, Lara. You’re a godsend.”
She laughed lightly. “That’s why you pay me the big bucks.”
I ended the call and turned to Kate, who watched me with raised eyebrows.
“So?” she said, waiting for me to fill in the blanks. “What did Lara say?”
“We’re meeting tomorrow at 10:00 and will go to the precinct at 11:00. I’ll call McDonald and let him know.” She nodded and kissed me before I stood up. “I’ll go into my office.”
“Okay,” she said and forced a smile. “Come back when you’re done and read the paper. I’ll make some regular coffee for you.”
I nodded and left the room, returning to my office and the business card Detective McDonald gave me with his direct line at the precinct.
I made arrangements and then joined Kate and Sophie in the living room, fresh cup of coffee in hand. I should have pushed thoughts of Lisa and her machinations out of my mind, and tried to enjoy my time with my beautiful wife and daughter, but I felt a sense of dread come over me at the prospect of yet another meeting with the detectives at the precinct.
I must have looked as dismal as I felt for Kate put her section of the paper down and turned to me. “Drake, you have to let it go. You did nothing wrong. I have faith that the police will soon clear you. They’re following procedures.”
“I know, I know,” I said with a sigh and ran my fingers through my hair. “It’s just that there have been people wrongly accused of murder, who’ve gone all the way to prison before they’ve been cleared, spending years in jail.”
She shook her head. “That’s not you. Those people were poor and uneducated, easily confused and with poor lawyers.” She frowned. “You’re a well-educated, wealthy professional neurosurgeon who has a great lawyer. There’s no way you’re going to spend a day in jail or even be tried. They’ll figure it out soon. Really,” she said and squeezed my arm. She gave me a small smile, as if she was trying to force it.
I kicked myself mentally for even talking about my anxiety. The last thing Kate needed was a husband worrying about being wrongly accused of a crime. I had to be strong for her. I wanted to be strong for her and Sophie, not weak or anxious. I couldn’t figure out why it was taking so long to clear me.
“Forget it,” I said and stroked her cheek. “Let’s go out and have a nice walk through the park after lunch. The snow’s stopped and I bet it’s beautiful.”
She smiled, a real smile this time. “That sounds wonderful. I love Central Park when the trees are all covered in frost."
The next day, I went to the coffee shop and sat down at a table at the back of the room across from Lara. The table was where we usually sat to avoid anyone overhearing our conversations. The table top was covered in papers, and Lara was on her cell. She stood and walked over to the far window and kept speaking, her voice soft. I tried not to listen, but couldn’t help overhear parts of the conversation.
“Yes, isn’t that interesting? What’s the connection again? Through an aunt?”
She stood looking out the window, her hand on one hip, the other cradling the cell to her ear. A waitress came over to the table to take my order. I asked for a latte and then scanned the papers Lara had spread out while she finished her conversation.
Dressed in a sober black business suit with her platinum blonde hair pulled back into a severe bun, she was a formidable looking woman. I’d be intimidated by her if I hadn’t been her friend for years and her once upon a time Dom-in training.
“That explains it,” Lara said. “They don’t want to think of their little girl doing anything on her own like this.”
I wondered if she was talking about Lisa, so I listened more closely.
“I will tell him. He’s right here, in fact. We’re getting ready to go to the precinct to speak with the detectives on the case.”
She turned and glanced at me, smiling briefly as if to reassure me.
“Okay, I will. Thanks so much for calling. This is indeed an interesting turn of events.”
She ended the call and returned to the table, sitting back down on her chair, her back straight, a look on her face that was inscrutable.
“Apparently,” she said and opened a file. “Our Miss Lisa has a family member on the NYPD Major Crimes unit.”
“Ahh,” I said, finally understanding. “And that someone is hoping that Lisa’s allegations hold up because then they can lay the blame on me instead of their delusional family member...”
“Precisely,” Lara said. Her wide eyes were the only hint that she was excited about this development. Other than that, she was as composed as ever. “We’re going to have to tread very lightly, if that’s the case. People can get very pig headed when family is involved. This will require a deft hand with the NYPD. I have a few markers I can call in – a few backs I’ve scratched before. Don’t worry,” she said and closed a file. “We can deal with this.”
“I sure hope so,” I said, leaning back in my chair, exhaling heavily.
We spent the next hour drinking down coffee and poring over my schedules, re-checking for any time I had gone to a dungeon party, a night out at the opera or theatre, and any fundraising activities with DWB. I marked down every night I worked late on an emergency surgery. Dates that I was involved in board meetings at night for the corporation. There were a lot of dates. I was a very busy surgeon, executive and philanthropist. Plus, I brought along my schedule of dates I played with Mersey.
“God, I didn’t realize until now how busy I was back then,” I said and shook my head. “I was out more days than I stayed at home. Pretty much every evening was taken up either practicing, performing, at some function or working late. I don’t know when I could have squeezed in a mistress on top of a serious girlfriend, fiancé and then wife.”
“Too busy,” Lara said. “Once we can check the new dates she gave the police, we can probably rule out all of her claims that you were together.”
“How can I prove I didn’t meet her secretly in the broom closet at Carnegie Hall?”
Lara shrugged. “We’ll find something. One date we can prove you were not with her, then all the other dates become suspect.”
“I hope so,” I said and checked my watch. “Looks like we have to get going.”
Lara checked her watch and nodded. “Okay, handsome,” she said and smiled at me. “Let’s go slay some dragons.”
“You can lead,” I said and helped her with her coat.
She grinned. “As always.”
McDonald and St. James met us in the waiting area and escorted us into a larger conference room. It was not at all like one of the smaller interrogation rooms I had been in before. It made me feel less like a suspect and more like a citizen who had to clear up a few details before the case could move forward.
At least, that’s what I hope it meant.
McDonald sat across from me and put a piece of paper on the table, pushing it towards me with a placid expression on his face.
“You are familiar with the list of dates that Dr. Monroe claims you were together. I would appreciate it if you could provide us with your whereabouts on those additional dates," he said and pointed to a half-dozen new dates appended to the bottom. "If there’s anyone who can corroborate your details, we’d appreciate their name and phone number so we can contact them to clear this up.”
I nodded and took the sheet of paper in hand. Lara scooched closer, and spied the sheet after putting on her horn-rimmed glasses. The dates were spaced out over the period, with a notable blank space during the time Kate and I were in Africa, but there were a few dates each year that supposedly, Lisa and I were together.
Lara had a list of dates in her hand.
“That,” she said and pointed to a date two years earlier. “That was the fundraiser for Doctors Without Borders.” Lara glanced up at the detectives.
“I was there with Dr. Morgan,” she said. “I didn’t see her that night and I would have known if she was there.”
“You’re his lawyer,” St. James said, his tone dismissive.
“I’m also his friend. I know both Lisa Monroe and Derek Richardson. I’m sure once you get ahold of Derek, he’ll tell you that Drake was not interested in Lisa beyond a couple of times they were at parties together. In fact, Mr. Richardson offered to involve Dr. Morgan more intimately, but Dr. Morgan declined.”
“Is that so?” McDonald said and glanced at me. “So do you think her,” he said and paused, “focus on you began at that point in time?”
“Yes,” I said, glancing at Lara. “It must have. I wasn’t interested in her as a submissive or in becoming more involved with them. You can talk to Richardson about it. He knows how I felt. In fact, I talked to him about her after I started in the fellowship program.”
“Mr. Richardson has been a difficult man to find. He’s out of the country right now, according to his lawyer, so we can’t confirm your story. But we will, once we’re able to contact him.”
I leaned back. “I’d be happy for you to contact him, because he’ll corroborate my story.”
McDonald nodded. “When was the last time you spoke with Richardson?”
I thought back to my call to him after Lisa started the program. “I believe it was in early fall after I started my fellowship and realized Lisa was in the program.”
“Tell me,” St. James asked, leaning in. “Why weren’t you interested?” His voice sounded doubtful. “She’s a very attractive woman. She was offering herself as a partner.”
I shook my head. “They were interested in things that I wasn’t.”
“Such as?”
I glanced at Lara, wondering how deeply to get into BDSM play with the officers. I expected they’d already heard pretty much everything. She nodded.
“They were into breath play. I wasn’t.”
Lara was busy cross referencing dates with our list.
“Here's one," Lara said and glanced up from her list. "She claims she was at Carnegie that night you met Ethan and Kate there. That's one we can cross off.”
Lara handed me the sheet and I checked the two lists. Sure enough, she had indicated she was at the performance where Kate and I had our first real date.
“I sure didn’t see her there,” I said, unable to keep a scoff out of my voice. “Does she have a ticket to prove it?”
“Do you have tickets?"
"I have credit card receipts."
"Were you in the theatre the entire time?” St. James asked. “Sitting with your party and can they confirm it?”
I thought back to that night. I had left the box where Ethan and Elaine and Kate were seated, but only for a short time. I found a different empty box and sat there so I could watch Kate. I was only away from their box for fifteen minutes.
Kate even saw me at the end, after the performance, before the intermission.
“I stepped out for fifteen minutes, and sat in another location.”
“Why did you leave?”
“My wife, Kate,” I said, frustrated that I had to explain my absence. “It was our first date and she asked me to leave because she became very emotional during the performance. You see, she went every year with her mother and--.”
“So you were away from their box for fifteen minutes,” St. James said, interrupting me. “Did you sit with anyone?”
“I was sitting in an empty box nearby. One of the ushers let me sit there when I explained to him why I left my own seat.”
“Do you remember which usher?”
I frowned and rubbed my forehead. “It was two years ago. I don’t know what usher it was. Some young guy with dark hair,” I said, struggling to remember. “Looked like a college student. Tall and skinny with a bad case of acne.”
“We’ll check it out.”
I turned to Lara right. “Do you have any other dates?”
She pointed to one. It was a night I was playing with Mersey.
“I was playing with my band, Mersey, that night,” I said and showed Detective McDonald. “We were playing at O’Riley's. I stayed after and had a drink with my band mates. Then, I went home and got up early. I had office hours that next morning.”
“Can your band mates confirm this?”
“Yes,” I said. “Of course. Lisa was never there. I never saw her in the audience and I never spoke to her.”
“Do you always keep track of every audience member?” St. James said, frowning.
“I never saw Lisa that night. I never spoke with her. You can ask my band mates. I’ll give you their names and addresses. They’ll back me up on this. I went right home after we finished closing the place up. Lisa was not there.”
“We’ll check it out,” McDonald said. At that point, I realized that I’d have to come clean to the O’Riley’s about my personal life, who Lisa was and how I met her. While I was sure they already knew some of it, because of all the press, I had never said anything to them directly about my past and how it played into all this.
I did not look forward to that reality.
There were three other dates that Lisa claimed she was with me that conflicted with my calendar entries. One was an evening that I had surgery late.
“I went right home after I finished checking on patients,” I said. I shrugged, because I had gone right home and after showering, went right to bed. I’d played racquetball with Dave that morning and was exhausted after a long day of surgery.
I couldn’t prove Lisa hadn’t come home with me. Except…
“There’s a security guard on staff at my building in Chelsea. There’s also video of the block but would they still have it on hand or would it have been written over? I can’t imagine tapes would still be available this long after the date…”
I glanced between McDonald and St. James.
“Would the guard remember me coming home alone?”
St. James shrugged.
“Is it even still the same man?" I added. "I haven’t lived there for a year or more.”
“We’ll check it out,” McDonald said, “but from what I am hearing, there’s at least a few days you can’t prove you weren’t with Dr. Monroe. Am I right?”
“She can’t prove she was with me either,” I said, my voice defensive. “It’s her word against mine.”
“Precisely,” St. James said.
“Dr. Morgan is a highly esteemed neurosurgeon," Lara said. "He owns a business and runs a charitable foundation. He’s very respected.”
“He’s also involved in a subculture that often involves sexual violence,” St. James said pointedly.
“It’s entirely consensual,” Lara protested. “Everyone involved in the lifestyle signs contracts to that effect when they become involved. What they do is not illegal.”
“It’s also not respected or esteemed by the general population,” St. James said.
“Are you going to charge Dr. Morgan with a crime?” Lara said, her voice icy. “If not, we have to go.”
“No, we’re not going to charge Dr. Morgan," Mc Donald said testily. "Not at this time. We wanted to check out the new dates Ms. Monroe provided." He turned to me. "You’re free to go, but please, don’t leave the state. We may have more questions.”
“Of course,” I said and stood up, buttoning my jacket. “I understand you’re merely doing your jobs.”
With that, I helped Lara with her coat and we col
lected up our papers. I kept the copy with the new dates Lisa had claimed we had been in contact.
“If you can think of anyone else who can confirm they were with you on those other dates, you have my number," McDonald said with a perfunctory smile. "Give me a call.”
“I will,” I said and forced a smile back that I didn’t feel any more than he did.
Lara and I left together, my hand on Lara’s waist as she led us down the hallway to the exit.
“Well, I’m glad that’s over,” I said with a sigh. “I hope that they’ll realize she lied about the dates. There’s no way she was at that fundraiser. I never saw her there. I was with Dave the entire night.”
“Don’t worry,” Lara said. “I’m sure we’ve provided enough for them to stop looking at you as a suspect. Dave will corroborate your story.”
I nodded. Dave was another person I'd have to come clean to. Although we'd been friends for several years outside of work, I had never divulged anything about my secret life. He knew what was being said in the news articles, and he was trying to play it down to the board members and donors but I would eventually have to provide an explanation.
I opened the door, and together, Lara and I left the precinct. As I walked down the steps, I felt a little less gloomy.
We stopped on the street outside the precinct.
“I wonder where Richardson is.”
Lara shrugged. “He’s a free spirit. I’ll call his lawyer and speak with him. It would be nice if the detectives could talk to him. Once they talk to Dave, he’ll confirm that you were together for the entire evening at the fundraiser. When they get a couple of falsehoods from her testimony, it’ll put all the rest of her dates in doubt.”
“I hope so,” I replied. “Dave will confirm that we were together the entire evening. I even dropped him off before I went home. Unless there was someone who could confirm that Lisa was there, she could provide no evidence that she was even at the event.”
Lara nodded. “I’m going to walk the rest of the way,” she said and squeezed my arm with affection. “You go home to your beautiful wife and baby and forget about this, okay? I’ll take care of this list.”