Love, Lies & The D.A. (48 page)

“No.
Nothing.”

“I’m
on a jet now. I should be there about ten your time.”

“I’ll
send someone over to pick you up. I need to be here in the event anything
happens.”

“Don’t
worry about that. Val is with me. We’ll take a cab.”

“You’re
welcome to stay here with me if you want. Or at Jada’s. I can let you in. Hopefully,
they’ll be done here by the time you arrive.”

“Sure…
whatever. Text me your address. We’ll sort it out when we get there.”

It’s
almost nine
when the processing agents leave, and some
crime scene cleaners come to clean up the space. They’ve taken away Maggie and
Micky because they think they might hold more evidence. It was hard to watch
them carted away in bags. It’s harder not knowing where Jada is. Or if she’s
hurt, or hungry, or healthy… I can’t bear to think of anything worse.

“Douglas
went out to grab us some breakfast. Why don’t you go take a shower?” Phillip
says. “You can eat when he returns.”

My
head is splitting. Food is the last thing on my mind right now. Nevertheless, I
put on a pot of coffee and head upstairs for a shower.

This
is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to deal with, and as I think about it,
knowing all that I know now, I’d do it again in a heartbeat. I love Jada more
than any woman I’ve ever been with.

I can’t
stop thinking about last night, and the look in her eyes the last time I saw
her. She had that same look in her eyes in the picture she sent me. I step out
of the shower, and more reminders of the night she had planned stare me in the
face
—
the
red sheets on the bed, the champagne on what used to be ice.

Why
didn’t I insist she come with me? Why didn’t I take her to her penthouse? She
would have been safer there. I failed her. I should have been there. Her safety
should have been my priority. I promised her I would protect her… this happened
under my watch. How could I have a complete lapse in judgment after this place
was broken into a few weeks ago? What the hell was I thinking?

I
should have asked the FBI to keep on following her, even after Chris Hostin’s
and Sophie’s arrest. In a moment of pure rage and anger at myself, I ram my
hands through the bathroom wall. How could I fuck up so badly? I let her down.
I could never forgive myself if she didn’t make it out of this.

I
throw on a pair of jeans and a sweater, pick up my phones, and return
downstairs. The spot where Micky and Maggie laid is now spotless and the glass
doors are replaced for the second time in weeks. Phillip, Douglas, and another
agent eat breakfast at the island. The only thing I can stomach right now is
some coffee.

*     *     *

I can
hear the two men arguing upstairs. I’m hoping that they’re fighting over taking
me up on my offer. Even if one of them is thinking about it, I have a chance.

I
later hear what sounds like a very large metal door open. I carefully pull the
duct tape off my ankles and struggle to stand. Eventually, I succeed and I’m
able to see two blonde haired men leaving in what might be a black van. I try
to make out what else I see, but it looks bare. I think there’s water nearby. I
hear water running.

I
sit down and attempt to make myself comfortable when I feel my
Johnnyphone
in my
pocket. I wiggle to fish it out of my pocket, but unfortunately, the flashing
yellow light tells me I barely have any battery left.

How
could I have forgotten this was here? You were drugged, that’s how.

I am
so happy the phone’s even on, I blubber like a baby. I quickly dial Jonathan’s
number on speed dial.

“Jada.
Baby, are you okay?”

“I’m
fine. My phone battery is almost dead.”

“Jada,
this is Phillip. Do you know where you are?”

“I
think I’m near water. It looks like I’m locked in a basement, and there are
target practice things in here. The windows are all blocked and I’m in
handcuffs. I can only see through the nail holes in the wood that cover the
window. Two blonde men kidnapped me. They left in a black van, so please try to
hurry.”

“Sweetie,
you’re going to be fine.”

“Bobby?”

“Yes,
we’re going to find you. Try not to worry.”

“Oh,
one other thing, I think there are large me—”

The battery
dies. I feel my heart drop into my stomach, and I hope and pray that there are
enough clues and enough of a signal for them to find me. I slip the phone back
into my pocket. I still have no appetite. Even if I did, I don’t trust the food
they’ve given me. What if it has been poisoned? Or laced with more drugs?

I find
myself staring through the tiny holes for what seems like hours at a time. I
scream and shout for help, but still—nothing.

I am
so thankful I was able to make contact. It was great to hear Jonathan’s voice
and Bobby’s. There is even a sense of comfort in knowing that Phillip is there
working on the case. For now, I guess I must sit and wait. I’m not sure that
there is much else I can do.

Maybe
ten minutes have gone by, and I’m back up on my feet looking out the window.
Then I wonder if by chance these men left the door open. I run to the door.
Unfortunately, it being left open was wishful thinking.

I hear
a vehicle pull up, and I run to see if it’s the FBI. It’s not. The men have returned.
I quickly try to wrap the tape around my ankles. However, with handcuffs on,
even the simplest task can be a struggle. To make matters worse, I hear their
heavy boots descending the stairs. I sit up, wanting to avoid another cold
bath. My clothing and the mattress are still damp from earlier. I finish
replacing the tape, and at the same moment, the door opens.

The
man with the brown eyes comes in with his mask in place. He throws a large
bottle of water and snacks on the floor next to the mattress. He seems to be
the one that was considering taking my offer. He also appears to be the
follower. Blue Eyes is the leader. I think about saying something to him.

“Please
think about my offer. I don’t want to die.”

“If
your boyfriend pays up, you won’t have anything to worry about.”

“Who’s
paying you to do this? If you tell me who it is and let me go, I’ll pay you.”

“Your
boyfriend fucked with the wrong people. How much are we talking, anyway?”

“How
much do you want?”

All of
a sudden the other masked man rushes in—furious.

“What
the fuck are you doing? You’re trying to make a deal with her?” he asks,
shoving Brown Eyes against the wall.

Brown Eyes
pushes back and the two exchange punches. This might be my opportunity to
escape. I try to remove the tape around my feet as fast as I can while the two
struggle. I stop dead in my track when I hear one single shot. I look over in
time to see Brown Eyes holding his chest and falling to the floor.

“Fuck!”
Blue Eyes shouts as he watches the other man collapse to the floor. He holds
his head, and kneels to the floor in agony. He sobs for a second.

He
rises to his feet and walks over to me, pointing the gun at my temple.

“See
what you fucking caused. You made me shoot my own fucking brother.”

“I’m
sorry. Take him to the hospital. Doctors can help.”

“Fuck!
Fuck! Fuck!” he screams, pacing the floors with his hands on his head, then
kicks an old bucket that sits in the corner.

“Come
on, take him to the hospital.”

“Shut
the fuck up, lady… I need some time to think.”

“But
he needs a doctor now. If you don’t take him, he will die.”

“Shut
up!” he screams, hitting me across my temple. Then I hear the door slam shut.

I fall
over. My head is throbbing. I’m temporarily dazed. I hold my head in pain then
I realize blood is running down the side of my head. I don’t know if this is
possible, but it almost seems like he’s redone the damage from my accident a
few weeks ago.

I lie
over quietly. The only comfort I get is from keeping my head still. Moments
later, I hear the door open again. I don’t move, but in my peripheral vision, I
can again see Blue Eyes pacing the floor.

“Fuck,”
he exclaims. “Sorry bro.”

He
pulls away his blue plaid shirt, exposing a green T-shirt, and covers his
brother’s upper body. He then exits the room, locking the door behind him.

I lie
in a cold room with a dead man in a pool of blood on the floor not more than
ten feet away from me. Despite the fact that I know these men tried to hurt me,
I feel somewhat guilty that my interference instigated the fight that caused
this man’s death.

It
seems like hours since I spoke to Jonathan, although I really have no sense of
time. Where are they? How long will it take them to get here? Will they even
get here in time?

Now, Blue
Eyes might be unstable and unpredictable. He was distraught over his brother’s
death. Who knows what he’ll do next. Because of that, I feel like the danger
has increased, and at any moment, he can walk down the stairs and put a bullet
in my head.

I try
not to think. I don’t want to think. Right now, I want to wake up from this
horrible nightmare.

Suddenly,
I think about my mom. I wonder if she knows about any of what is going on right
now. I hope she doesn’t. If she does, she’d be worrying out of her mind, and at
this point, it’s not necessary.

She
wanted to travel all this way when I had my accident. If she knew I was
kidnapped, nothing Bobby could say to her would convince her to stay away.
Frankly, she would not be much help to the FBI or Jonathan either. She’d ask a
hundred and one questions and interfere. I love her, she’s my mom, but it would
make things ten times more complicated if she were here right now.

I’m
tired. I look out through the tiny holes covering the window and it looks dark.
Probably overcast, maybe the rain will come down later. I don’t even want to
think of spending another night here.

I hear
some movement, like possibly things falling hard onto a concrete floor, but it’s
hard to tell what it is.

Out of
nowhere, the thought comes into my mind—I wonder if he’ll get rid of me now
that I’ve witnessed him killing his brother. I’m the only person that knows
what happened to his brother. I’m the only person that knows he’s responsible
for his brother’s death. What if he forgets all about the money and kills me.

My
body is suddenly consumed with fear. I shiver uncontrollably. My mind spins out
of control. Maybe he’s getting ready to kill me, and he’s getting his tools
together so he can get rid of my body.

Would
he just forget about the money? Would he not care about that anymore? Was that
not the point of this in the first place?

I need
to stop thinking. Right now, I am in excruciating pain and even the slightest
noise sounds like a large explosion. I hear the metal doors open then the
vehicle backs out and leaves after he closes the door again.

For a
few minutes, I drift, but what I think is thunder soon wakes me. I look out of
the tiny holes in the covering over the window. It’s too dark to see anything,
but I hear the heavy rain pounding against the ground outside.

I pull
my phone from my pocket and hope it magically works, but that’s a dream. Then
it occurs to me that maybe Brown Eyes had a phone on him, and maybe even keys.
That would mean I’d have to tamper with a dead bloody body. That’s something I
don’t know if I’m prepared for, or prepared to do. However, to make it out of
this alive, I may not have a choice.

I tear
the tape carefully away from my feet. It’s so difficult because of the
handcuffs. After a few deep breaths, I muster up the courage and check to see
if there is a phone on his body. I look down on his covered body; he lies on
his side. Half of his body is saturated in blood, and his back is perched up
against the wall. To touch any part of him, I will need to step into the pool
of blood that surrounds him.

I need
to think about this seriously. I don’t want his brother to know what I’ve been
up to. He will see my foot print in the blood. To make matters worse, I don’t
have on any shoes, and the thought of stepping into gooey, nasty, sticky blood
is not necessarily something I wish to entertain.

If I
pull the mattress forward, I might be able to brace my leg on the wall and the
mattress without having to step in blood. An old broom also stands in the
corner that will be extremely helpful for me to balance myself.

Before
I even try pulling the mattress, I grab the broom and use it to feel around his
pockets, but I can’t seem to find anything. Of course, the possibility exists
that it might be in the part of his coat that’s in the pool of blood on the
floor. I feel around with the stick but there’s no luck there either.

I need
to check his back pockets, and that means I will need to use the mattress to
brace my body. I pull it forward and I place some old boards between it and the
wall, hoping it does not shift with my weight. I start the task of trying to
get into his back pocket.