One Long Embrace
Page 56
Gritting his teeth, he looked over his shoulder toward the man on the other boat. “Did you hear where they were taking Tara?”
“The man said something about a chartered plane. Not sure.”
Jay nodded. There was a small private airport about a half hour’s drive away. That’s where they were heading.
Reluctantly, he let the two policemen lead him to the police car and shove him onto the back seat. Instead of getting into the car immediately, one of them walked up to the onlookers that had gathered.
“What’s happening, Frank?” one bystander asked.
The policeman jerked his thumb toward the car. “Guy stole a yacht.”
Jay clenched his teeth. Fucking idiots! If they’d only let him get his wallet from the boat, he could clear up this misunderstanding in a second. And now these country bumpkins were wasting even more time by chatting with the locals. Time Jay didn’t have.
“Damn it, what are we waiting for?” Jay yelled. “Take me to the fucking police station so we can get on with it!”
The policeman looked over his shoulder. “He seems pretty eager to go to jail.”
The crowd laughed at that.
Finally, the two policemen decided to get into the car.
“About time,” Jay ground out. “While you’re chatting it up out there, my girlfriend is being kidnapped.”
As the driver started the car and pulled away, the other guy looked back at Jay. “I don’t think I like you.”
Jay narrowed his eyes. “That’s mutual.”
It seemed to take an eternity until they finally pulled up to a small, one-story building with the words Police Department written over the entrance.
The moment the two officers led him into the building, Jay repeated his demand, “I want my lawyer now.”
The two officers exchanged a look. “Pain in the butt, that guy,” one of them said.
“Just let him make his damn phone call, so he’ll finally shut up.”
Not too gently Jay was shoved toward a counter. Then the policeman who’d handcuffed him removed the handcuffs and pressed the receiver of a phone into his hand.
“You’ve got two minutes.”
Jay didn’t lose any time. He dialed the direct line of his lawyer in New York. The call was connected almost immediately.
“Yeah?”
“Stephen, it’s Jay Bohannon. Listen, I got arrested in South Carolina. I need you to do the following things.”
“Jay, what the hell? What did you get arrested for?”
“It’s a misunderstanding. I don’t have time to explain. You need to call Charlie Taylor for me. Write down his number.” He rattled off the number. “Tell him to get to the Max Cannon private airstrip immediately and make sure the plane carrying Tara doesn’t take off. I don’t care what he needs to do. Whatever it takes, I’ll take responsibility for it. Got that?”
“Yeah, got it.”
“Then get the ownership papers of my prototype yacht, a copy of my passport and my drivers license and fax it all to the police station here.” He looked at the policeman who’d arrested him. “What’s the fax number here?”
One of the policemen shoved a business card in front of him.
Jay read the number on it back to his lawyer. “Got it?”
“Got it, Jay. Is there anything else you need? Do you need me to fly down there?”
“No. That’ll clear it up. Hurry. But call Charlie first. Tell him it’s urgent. He has to stop that plane.”
“I’m on it.”
There was a click in the line.
Jay released a long breath. He’d done everything he could. Now he had to wait and trust that Charlie would understand how important it was to stop Tara’s parents from taking her away from him.
“Let’s book ‘im then.”
“Don’t waste your time. I’ll be out of here in less than an hour,” Jay prophesied.
And then Tara’s parents would get an earful about snatching Tara from him and having him wrongfully arrested.
29
Jay’s patience was wearing thin. He kept looking at the clock that hung on the wall opposite the holding cell they’d put him in, while he listened to the goings-on in the small police station. The place was basic, the furniture and equipment past their prime. Clearly, they didn’t have the funds to run the place properly.
The two policemen who’d arrested him seemed fresh out of the police academy, and besides a civilian employee who appeared to work in an administrative capacity and another police officer who was only a few years older than the two kids who’d grabbed him, there didn’t seem to be anybody else working here. Whoever the police chief was, he wasn’t at the station.
“The man said something about a chartered plane. Not sure.”
Jay nodded. There was a small private airport about a half hour’s drive away. That’s where they were heading.
Reluctantly, he let the two policemen lead him to the police car and shove him onto the back seat. Instead of getting into the car immediately, one of them walked up to the onlookers that had gathered.
“What’s happening, Frank?” one bystander asked.
The policeman jerked his thumb toward the car. “Guy stole a yacht.”
Jay clenched his teeth. Fucking idiots! If they’d only let him get his wallet from the boat, he could clear up this misunderstanding in a second. And now these country bumpkins were wasting even more time by chatting with the locals. Time Jay didn’t have.
“Damn it, what are we waiting for?” Jay yelled. “Take me to the fucking police station so we can get on with it!”
The policeman looked over his shoulder. “He seems pretty eager to go to jail.”
The crowd laughed at that.
Finally, the two policemen decided to get into the car.
“About time,” Jay ground out. “While you’re chatting it up out there, my girlfriend is being kidnapped.”
As the driver started the car and pulled away, the other guy looked back at Jay. “I don’t think I like you.”
Jay narrowed his eyes. “That’s mutual.”
It seemed to take an eternity until they finally pulled up to a small, one-story building with the words Police Department written over the entrance.
The moment the two officers led him into the building, Jay repeated his demand, “I want my lawyer now.”
The two officers exchanged a look. “Pain in the butt, that guy,” one of them said.
“Just let him make his damn phone call, so he’ll finally shut up.”
Not too gently Jay was shoved toward a counter. Then the policeman who’d handcuffed him removed the handcuffs and pressed the receiver of a phone into his hand.
“You’ve got two minutes.”
Jay didn’t lose any time. He dialed the direct line of his lawyer in New York. The call was connected almost immediately.
“Yeah?”
“Stephen, it’s Jay Bohannon. Listen, I got arrested in South Carolina. I need you to do the following things.”
“Jay, what the hell? What did you get arrested for?”
“It’s a misunderstanding. I don’t have time to explain. You need to call Charlie Taylor for me. Write down his number.” He rattled off the number. “Tell him to get to the Max Cannon private airstrip immediately and make sure the plane carrying Tara doesn’t take off. I don’t care what he needs to do. Whatever it takes, I’ll take responsibility for it. Got that?”
“Yeah, got it.”
“Then get the ownership papers of my prototype yacht, a copy of my passport and my drivers license and fax it all to the police station here.” He looked at the policeman who’d arrested him. “What’s the fax number here?”
One of the policemen shoved a business card in front of him.
Jay read the number on it back to his lawyer. “Got it?”
“Got it, Jay. Is there anything else you need? Do you need me to fly down there?”
“No. That’ll clear it up. Hurry. But call Charlie first. Tell him it’s urgent. He has to stop that plane.”
“I’m on it.”
There was a click in the line.
Jay released a long breath. He’d done everything he could. Now he had to wait and trust that Charlie would understand how important it was to stop Tara’s parents from taking her away from him.
“Let’s book ‘im then.”
“Don’t waste your time. I’ll be out of here in less than an hour,” Jay prophesied.
And then Tara’s parents would get an earful about snatching Tara from him and having him wrongfully arrested.
29
Jay’s patience was wearing thin. He kept looking at the clock that hung on the wall opposite the holding cell they’d put him in, while he listened to the goings-on in the small police station. The place was basic, the furniture and equipment past their prime. Clearly, they didn’t have the funds to run the place properly.
The two policemen who’d arrested him seemed fresh out of the police academy, and besides a civilian employee who appeared to work in an administrative capacity and another police officer who was only a few years older than the two kids who’d grabbed him, there didn’t seem to be anybody else working here. Whoever the police chief was, he wasn’t at the station.
