Chapter Fifteen #2
“Thanks, Bill. I’ll get a cab home. I appreciate your help today.” I handed him a fifty-dollar tip and went inside the police station.
The brick building was standard government issue, and the inside resembled every other police precinct I’d been in—not that I’d been inside too many. I went through the door into a gray room where a policeman was sitting at a desk, greeting visitors.
“How may I help you?” he asked as he studied me for possible threats.
“I’m here to check on three young men who were brought in a couple of hours ago.” I grabbed my wallet and handed over my ID without being asked.
“Are you their lawyer?” He had a snarky smirk I didn’t appreciate.
“No, but the lawyers are on the way. I wanted to be sure they hadn’t been moved to another precinct, so I could inform the lawyers they’d need to go elsewhere.”
He exhaled. “Names.”
“River Ashe, Arlo Timmons, and Goldie Robbins,” I answered. He jotted it down and then walked over to a computer, using his index fingers to peck in the names.
It took him five minutes to check on all of them, and when he walked back over, my driver’s license was on top, leading me to believe he’d checked me out too. “Timmons is in a cell facing extradition to Santa Clara County. Ashe and Robbins are awaiting arraignment so bail can be established.”
“Thank you. Is there somewhere I can wait for their lawyers?”
“Benches outside.” He then turned away, so I went outside and sat on a bench in front of the police station, watching people going on about their lives, most appearing oblivious to anything going on around them.
It was human nature, I guessed. Going on with one’s life without a care or concern for passersby. Then, one day, a person comes along and changes everything. River was that person for me.
He made me want to protect him and take care of him, even though he’d never asked me for anything.
River had quickly become the most important person I’d ever met.
I wished my mother were alive to meet him, and I couldn’t wait for Pop to meet him.
There was something about River that I knew my father would like a lot.
Would River acknowledge me in public? Did it matter to me if we could never be open about our relationship in public? Is that what I wanted? Was I gay? I’d said I wasn’t in a hurry to label myself, but was it important to River?
Hell, I couldn’t ask him any of those questions unless I got him out of jail. Just as I was about to storm into the police station and demand his release, a handsome gentleman stepped in front of me, blocking the sun.
I glanced up to see him smiling at me. “Are you the lawyer?”
“One of them. My partner is on his way. Got stuck in traffic. I’m Barton Reardon. My partner is my twin brother, Antel. Let’s go get your band out of jail.”
We went into the station, and Barton strolled up to the desk, putting his briefcase on the wood laminate top and smiling as he checked his watch. The cop was speaking on the phone, so Barton waited patiently.
Suddenly, the door flew open, and a blond man came inside. He looked disheveled and scattered, and aside from his glasses, he looked exactly like Barton, only he appeared to be the opposite. It was unbelievable to see them standing together.
The cop hung up and turned around, his face falling. “Oh, it’s you two.”
“Hello, Sergeant Hoskins. We’d like to see our clients.” Barton smirked.
Antel dug through a damn messy shoulder bag. “Ah, here it is. I’m here for Arlo Timmons.”
I was actually relieved. I didn’t have anything against Arlo, but Barton seemed to have his shit together, which was exactly what I wanted from whoever was going to keep River from getting into deep shit.
“I’m here for River Ashe and Golden Robbins, please.” Barton didn’t even open his briefcase.
“Come in.” The sergeant pressed a button, and the door buzzed.
Barton reached for the handle and pulled the door open, tilting his head for Antel to go in first, before he smiled at me. “Please, come with us. You know our clients and can offer a proper introduction.”
I shoved my hands in the pockets of my shorts and followed Antel inside. Barton stepped up to the desk on the other side of the door.
“Take a seat, and I’ll get the guard to collect your clients and put them in interrogation rooms.” The sergeant walked away, not appearing happy to see my companions at all.
Antel glanced my way. “Who are you?”
Barton leaned around me as I’d taken a seat between them. “Don’t be rude. This is— I don’t think we were properly introduced.”
I stuck out my hand. “I’m Kit Hansen. Nate Ashby is my uncle. I’m transporting the band’s equipment during the tour.”
“Ah. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m assuming you’re acting on the record label’s behalf in this matter?”
I wanted it to be perfectly clear where I stood. I loved Nate, but he didn’t need me looking out for the record label’s interests. The guys in the band needed someone since Kensington wasn’t doing anything for them.
“I’m not. I’m here for the guys. I’m looking after their best interests. Their manager has disappeared, and I want to be sure they don’t get the shaft,” I said.
“Did the kid really have sex with an underage girl?” Antel asked me.
“I wasn’t there. I don’t know,” I responded.
He chuckled, just as a guard stepped into the waiting area. “Reardons. Your clients are in A and B. Who’s this?” The guard pointed at me.
“He’s my paralegal. It was his day off,” Barton responded. The three of us stood and followed the man down a hallway. He opened the first door, and Arlo was seated at a table—actually, he was handcuffed to it.
I turned to Antel. “He’s yours.”
The lawyer went into the room and closed the door. The guard opened the next door, and Barton waved me in. River and Goldie both looked like hell. I walked over to River and saw he wasn’t cuffed to the table, thankfully. “You okay, sweetheart?”
“I’m embarrassed as hell. I didn’t think. I’m such an—”
I put my hand gently over his mouth to keep him from disparaging himself.
“It was a stupid mistake, but nobody got hurt. That was the most important thing. We’ll discuss this when we get back to the hotel.
We need to get you out of here,” I said as I kissed the top of his head and sat next to Barton Reardon. Not very covert of me.
“Gentlemen, I won’t ask what you were thinking because you weren’t. Tell me what happened, please.” Barton Reardon was polite and scolding at the same time. I liked the guy.
An hour later, River, Goldie, and Arlo were sitting in a room with a CCTV camera while their lawyers were in a courtroom on another floor with the magistrate to get their bail set so we could get them out of jail.
“My client hasn’t been proven to have had underage sex with Miss Deerborn.
The fetus she carries hasn’t been proven to be his, and it hasn’t been proven that the young woman is even pregnant.
We request that bail be set so my client can continue his work as a keyboardist for a touring band.
We’ll notify the court of his whereabouts at all times, and he will return to California to face these charges and enter a plea at his own expense during the last two weeks of August. We object to extradition to California because Miss Deerborn’s father has tried to extort money from my client,” Antel addressed the magistrate.
I was sitting in the courtroom as a spectator so I could bail them out if they were granted bail. I had my fingers crossed in my lap.
“Bail is set at ten thousand dollars, and the defendant is required to notify the Santa Clara County prosecutor of his whereabouts at all times.” The magistrate smacked the gavel and turned to the clerk. “Next.”
The clerk announced the case, and Barton stepped up to a podium. “Barton Reardon for the defense. I’m representing both defendants, Your Honor.”
He then went on to explain that while they were stupid, they weren’t lawbreakers. Luckily, they had no priors, so they were out on their own recognizance and would return to Phoenix in August for final dispensation.
Once the hearing was over, we left the courtroom. “So, we need to get a bondsman to bail Arlo out.”
“I’ll put up his bail. He won’t run out on me. Also, send your invoices to me. I’ll pay for this. I appreciate you coming to their defense.”
We returned to the first floor, where the Central City Precinct was housed. After I posted bail for Arlo, we took a cab back to the hotel. “Kensington is missing.”
River turned to me. “Do we know why?”
“Nope. We’ve been trying to get in touch with the fucker all day, and he’s not answering for anyone.
Oh…your new tour manager is at the hotel.
She’s a ball buster, but I like her. Do you want to meet with her tomorrow or this evening?
” I wanted to pull him onto my lap and hold him in my arms. We needed to talk.
The three of them looked at each other, having a silent conversation. Finally, Goldie spoke. “Let’s keep pulling off the Band-Aids. We need to meet her and figure out what the fuck is going to happen.” He wasn’t wrong.
“Okay. Please take us to Hyatt Place Phoenix,” I told the cab driver. He sped into traffic, and I put my left arm around River. He glanced at me and mouthed, “I’m sorry.”
All was right in my world for the moment.