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twenty-five
On the way to Jason’s architectural-firm, I stared out the window of the cab at all the people in a hurry to get the hell away from work. It was just after five, and the rush-hour pandemonium had begun. I asked the cabdriver if he could speed it up, because I was in a hurry. He cursed under his breath at me in some foreign language but did get a bit more aggressive with his driving.
After all the years of hiding things from him, going way back to our childhood, I was anxious to clear the air. Jason was the one person I should’ve revealed everything to from jump. If I had, none of the other events would have happened in the first place. There would’ve never been an affair, rather less affairs, and my marriage would never have been in jeopardy.
I was hoping Jason would understand. I believed in my heart he would, if I could only get him alone somewhere and explain it to him in my own way. Maybe I would take him back out to the observatory or the inn at the lake, since those were the sites of our most recent pleasant memories. No matter where I did it, it had to be done. I was prepared to face the consequences of my actions.
When we got about four blocks from Jason’s office, I noticed the flashing police lights ahead and wondered what had happened. The cab driver was stuck in heavy traffic, so I decided to pay him and trek the rest of the way on foot. I walked toward the office, slowly at first, but broke into a run when I saw Jason being handcuffed. By the time I covered the three remaining blocks, they had already put Jason in a squad car and driven off. I was out of breath and in a state of panic.
I spotted Jason’s secretary, Allison, standing on the steps and rushed up to her. “What happened? Where are they taking Jason?” She glared at me, gritting her teeth, and crossed her arms in front on her. “Why are you ignoring me? Where the hell are they taking my husband?”
“You know, you have a good man and don’t know how to treat him.” She rolled her eyes at me before continuing. “The rest of us spend our entire lives trying to find a good man. It’s women like you that ruin it for the rest of us.”
I wanted to slap the shit out of her but just got up in her face instead. “Listen, I don’t know what you’re talking about, nor do I give a shit. I asked you a question, and I would like a fuckin’ answer. Now, what the hell happened here?”
“Fine, I’ll tell you what happened. When you called earlier, and I told you Jason had someone in his office, that someone was your lover.” My mouth fell open. She sucked her teeth and added, “You’re such a tramp!”
I went ballistic, grabbed her by the shoulders, and started shaking her. “What lover? What the hell are you talking about?”
My immediate thought was that Quinton had changed his mind and broken his word to me about not telling Jason. I figured he told him out of anger or to protect him from my evil ways. It was apparent at the loft he felt more sorry for Jason than for me. I realized my mistake when Allison pointed to the other squad car that was still parked out front with the lights on. Tyson was seated in the back with handcuffs on.
I left Allison standing there along with other members of the staff, including one of Jason’s partners, who was shaking his head in disgust at me, and walked slowly over to the police car, wondering how the hell Tyson knew where to find Jason in the first place. Then I recalled the creaking exit door at the beginning of my confrontation with Quinton and realized he must’ve heard Quinton talking about Jason, including the location of his office.
Tyson confronting my husband was the last thing I ever expected. I shuddered to think what he must’ve told him and the crass manner in which he did it. How embarrassing it must’ve been to Jason to be accosted in his own place of business and told what a sex fiend his wife really was.
Before I could get all the way to the car, a police officer grabbed me by the arm, instructing me to stand back. I informed him my husband had been taken away in the other car and asked where he was taken and why.
The officer informed me that Jason and Tyson had gotten into a physical altercation, and while no charges would probably be filed against Jason, since he was provoked into fighting at his own office, they had to take them both down to the station to get the mess sorted out.
“Officer, I can explain this whole thing. It’s all my fault. My husband had nothing to do with it.”
“Well, then, you definitely need to come down to the precinct and give a statement. Here’s the address to the station. I’ll put my name on the card as well.” He scribbled his name on the little white generic card, on the blank line provided, and handed it to me. “Do you need a lift?”
I considered his offer, but only for a second. There was no way I was getting in the same car with Tyson, even if I was in the front and he was behind a barrier and handcuffed in the backseat. He had already tried to kill me and had apparently tried to kill my husband too. Getting in the car with him could only mean another ugly situation. “No thanks, officer. I have another way to get there.”
“Okay, ma’am.” He got into the driver’s seat, and while he was pulling off, I stared at Tyson, who had a look in his eyes that could melt ice. His lips were trembling, and while not a professional lip reader, I recognized the all-too-familiar nickname for me when he mouthed, “Bitch!”
I kept a key to Jason’s Land Rover on my ring, so I ran to the garage and found it parked in his assigned space. When I got to the precinct, it was pure madness. Those citizens who chose to cross the blue line of the law—from pimps and prostitutes to drunk drivers and drug dealers—and the ones paid to represent them were everywhere. They were all there. It was the one place Jason didn’t belong.
The officer that gave me the card wasn’t even there, having been sent back out on his beat. The female officer behind the booking desk told me to have a seat and wait for a senior officer to come and get me. I complied, even though I didn’t want to. I wanted Jason out of jail right that second, but causing a scene and bumrushing the woman behind the desk would’ve only landed my ass in jail too. Then again, I was the one who really belonged there. I was the seedy element.
After about fifty minutes of pure hell, not knowing where my baby was, a man in a pair of gray slacks, white shirt, and paisley tie approached me with a shield hanging out of his shirt pocket. “Mrs. Reynard, I’m Detective Rinaldi. Please follow me.”
He didn’t shake my hand or anything. He just stood there while I gathered my belongings so I could follow him to a small, cramped room at the end of one of the several cluttered hallways. He was a big man; the floor seemed to shake underneath his feet as he walked. He was having trouble breathing, and it wouldn’t have taken more than an educated guess to realize a heart attack was lurking in his near future.
Once we were in the room with the door closed, he asked, “Mrs. Reynard, I understand you think you can clear up the whole situation with your husband?”
“Yes, I can!” Twenty times a day, various people asked me would I like something to drink, and I always replied no. The one time I really was suffering from an extremely dry mouth, no one asked. I suppose making drink runs wasn’t in the detective’s job description. He was obviously a man on a mission, all about getting to the bottom of whatever dilemma faced him in the quickest manner possible. I decided not to waste his time.
I quickly related the whole sordid story—at least the part of it involving my extramarital affair with Tyson and the ultimate breakup. I told him Tyson couldn’t deal with being dismissed from my life and decided to seek revenge by telling my husband. I conveniently omitted the attempted murder by strangulation and my other affairs. Things were complicated enough without bringing all of that into it. I knew that would only escalate matters and possibly hold up Jason’s release.
Detective Rinaldi turned out to be a very nice man after all. He won brownie points for being one of the few people not to call me a bitch, ho, or tramp that day. He just calmly listened to what I had to say and informed me, “These types of situations happen every day.”
That shouldn’t have surprised me, considering all of the people who appear on talk shows fighting over their lovers, but his nonchalant approach took me off guard just the same. Scandalous affairs, dishonesty, violence, and things like that are supposed to happen to other people. Not to Jason and me.
“Wait here, Mrs. Reynard.” With that, he left me in the room all alone for about ten minutes. It felt more like ten hours to me.
He came back in with a grin on his face. “Your husband will be released without any charges. His story matches yours, and in this country, self-defense isn’t a crime.”
