Uncorked (22 page)

“That’s not what I’m saying. I
understand your love for the ocean, and I realize there are few properties with
limited access and high security measures. All I want is for you to consider a
high rise that has security features, controlled access, and manned security
twenty-four hours a day. I wish I had the pleasure of watching you all the
time, but it’s not possible.”

“Those properties aren’t easy to
come by on the beach.”

“Chella, for my piece of mind, I
am asking you to please consider that as an option. Even if it might take a little
extra time to find.”

“Tell me what so wrong with the
properties we looked at?”

“The properties on the beach were
beautiful, but none had those types of security measures in place. They all had
multiple entries into the space; some were even on the ground floor, making it
even easier to access. Chella, you have no idea what it’s like to witness
someone try to kill your girlfriend. It’s not something I wish to experience
again. Ever.”

As she listened to his words, she
felt guilty. “Mitch, I’m so sorry. I never considered how difficult it was for
you when you got into that room. I don’t want you to ever go through anything
like that again. I’m sorry I’ve been so stubborn.”

“Sometimes I think you’re the
most stubborn woman I’ve ever met,” he said, pulling her in his arms.

“I’ll ask Taylor to look for a
high rise with all the security features that will put your mind at ease, but
with the views I like. It might take a bit longer for you to get me out of your
hair, but it’s a compromise I hope both of us will be happy with in the end.”

“I like you in my hair. Thank you
for compromising.”

The next day,
Detective Carter and the lead
prosecutor in the case, Samantha Marlow, met with Mitch and Chella to go over
the state’s case against Aaron. Both Chella and Mitch would need to testify at
a grand jury hearing to be held the coming Friday afternoon.

 “We have a very strong case,”
said Ms. Marlow, sitting in her oversized leather office chair. “The list of
charges is so long, we should be able to get him in prison for the rest of his
life.”

“What is he being charged with?”
Chella asked.

“There are over ten charges, most
of them multiple. The most serious charge is two counts of attempted murder.
One count alone can be a life sentence. The other charges can put him away for
a long time, too. Everything from vandalism to assault with a deadly weapon,
stalking and let’s not forget the restraining order violations. You can have a
look at the all the charges here.” Ms. Marlow handed Chella the list. “What are
your feelings regarding a plea agreement?”

Mitch said, “We’ve discussed it.
We would prefer a plea. Neither Chella nor I have any interest in seeing Aaron
out of jail in this lifetime. Even though we want him in prison for as long as
humanly possible, we’ll be happy if we don’t have to go to court and sit on a
stand, giving hours of personal and painful testimony.”

“That’s understandable,” Ms.
Marlow replied.

“That being said, we have no
interest in seeing Aaron Stewart out of jail for another sixty years. Anything
less than that, it would be worth it for us to go to trial. With the mounting
evidence against him, he would probably get two life sentences and then some,
so we think sixty years would be a deal.

“Not to mention we’d all probably
all be dead within that time anyway, at least by longevity standards,” Chella
continued.

“I can promise you both I’ll try
my best. I’m going to give this my all.”

“One more question,” Chella
asked. “Will he be granted bail at his arraignment?”

“Highly unlikely, but not
impossible. I’m going to argue that bail be denied. You made police reports and
filed restraining orders over the years that created a paper trail. Together
with the evidence we collected from his residence, it should be enough to keep
him in jail. In addition, he has two prior violent assaults on his record.
That’s two strikes on his record. That won’t help his case, either.”

“If by some chance he’s granted
bail, please let us know,” Mitch replied.

“Sure.”

“Thanks, Ms. Marlow.” Chella and
Mitch shook her hand and left.

After looking at
properties, Mitch and Chella
returned home with no clear picture of where her next move would be. They saw a
few condos but weren’t completely sold. The locations were great, but the
buildings were older and many needed a complete renovation. The ones she really
liked were over her budget. None met Mitch’s high security standards.

Noticing her frustrations, he
took her in his arms and wrapped her in a plush, white towel as she stepped out
of the shower.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry this has
become so frustrating for you.”

“I wish we could come to some
sort of reasonable and realistic compromise, considering the difficulty we’re
having finding what you like in the area I want.”

“Let’s not talk about it tonight.
Why don’t you throw on your swimsuit? We can go for a swim. No one’s there and
Giorgio, the security guy, told me the pool is rarely used during the week.
We’ll have privacy.”

She smiled at him. “So you have
it all figured out I see. I guess it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world
to go for a swim. Get us some towels while I get dressed.”

“I was hoping you’d say that,
because I’ve packed us some drinks. Put on the sexiest swimsuit you own. I’ll
be waiting for you in the kitchen.”

“I hate to admit it, but this
might be just what I need right now.”

In lounge chairs, poolside,
darkness descended upon them. The afterglow of the setting sun created a
stunning backdrop for the towers that hovered over them. The lights from
buildings in the distance reminded them they were in the heart of downtown San
Diego. It was exactly what she needed—to forget about everything that had
happened over the past few weeks.

They chatted about work and
Emily. Chella laughed as he relayed the story Emily told him about her recently
acquired admirer at school. Daddy had his radar up, despite the fact that they
were talking about two five year olds.

Mitch dove into the pool, now
illuminated from below with lights that changed color every ten minutes. It was
beautiful. She pulled the tank dress she wore over her head revealing the
ultra-sexy white and gold monokini that barely covered her.

“Wow, I see we aim to please,”
Mitch said with a bright smile. “I might have a hard time keeping my hands off
of you.”

“You did say to wear the sexiest
swimsuit I owned. A little eye candy never hurt anyone.”

“Why should the eyes have all the
fun?”

She laughed at his words and dove
into the pool. She swam toward him and wrapped him in a full-body embrace like
sweet licorice.

He circled his muscular arms
around her waist, and looked into her eyes. “It’s great to see you like this. I
don’t like it when you’re stressed.”

She looked into his eyes and
kissed him lightly on his lips. “You make me so happy.”

“You make me happy too,
Sweetheart,” he replied, returning her gaze. He kissed her, long, penetrating,
wet. She welcomed him deep into her mouth.

He hardened between their
entwined bodies and pressed her body against the pool’s tiled edge. The strings
holding her swimsuit released easily in his grasp, enabling him easy access to
her sweet crevasses. He pleasured her with his fingers. She cried quiet,
sensual murmurs against his ear, and slipped one of her hands down his swimming
trunks, the other still around his neck. He gasped when her hands wrapped
around hardened shaft.

“Mitch?”

“Immm, hmmm?”

“I think we need to go up.”

“No way. I’m going to make you
come right here.”

“Even if we have an audience?”

He froze and cursed. “We do?”

“Immm, hmmm. There’s a couple
looking from above.”

“Shit.”

“Why don’t you calm
him
down?” she replied, laughing. “I’ll get our things together after you tie my
loose strings.”

“Let’s stay. I don’t mind making
out with you right here, unless you have any objections?”

“We’ll stick to first base then.
We don’t want the neighbors calling security on us. By the way, I love making
out.”

They frolicked and teased each
other for an hour, never interrupted by anyone. When they made it back to the
penthouse, Chella was certain Mitch would rip her swimsuit off as soon as they
got into the foyer, but he didn’t. He placed the picnic basket on the kitchen
countertop then took her in his arms and planted maddeningly soft kisses on her
lips until she was certain she would be the one to rip off her swimsuit.

Lifting her by her ass, he walked
over to one of the swivel bar stools at the island and placed her round, firm
buttocks on the soft leather seat, her legs around his hips. He looked deep
into her eyes, cupped her face in his hands, and kissed her. She was certain
she was falling in love with him, but she didn’t say any words with her mouth.
Everything she had to say, she said with her body.

He lifted her cover-up dress over
her head and dropped it on the floor. As she loosened the buttons on his shirt
then slid the linen folds from his broad shoulders, he trailed kisses from her
lips to her neck.

All that kept her monokini on was
a series of strings. After pulling the one around her neck then her back then
on either side of her hips the swimsuit completely fell apart.

Mitch’s cellphone rang.

Both tried to ignore it, but as
Mitch glanced at the number, the urgency in his body stalled.

“Sweetheart, I have to get this.
It’s Detective Carter.”

“Why would he be calling at this
time?”

“That’s what I need to find out.”
He answered his phone. “Detective. Yes, we’re home. What’s wrong? We’ll be
there.”

“What’s wrong?” Chella asked as
he ended the call.

“I don’t know. He says there’s a
development in the case he needs to talk to us about. He prefers to do it in
person.”

“What do you think it is?”

“No clue. I told him we’d meet
him downstairs in five minutes.”

“Did he sound serious?”

“He did. Come on. Let’s go throw
on some clothes.”

“I don’t like the sound of this,
Mitch. I’m getting a sick feeling in my stomach.”

“Try not to worry. Let’s hear
what he has to say first.”

Minutes later, they
met Detective Carter in the
lobby.

“How are you both?” he asked
politely.

“Much better, thanks.” Chella
replied while shaking his hand. “Let’s go have a seat in the clubroom. We’ll
have more privacy there.”

They found a corner window table
in the empty room. As they settled in, Mitch asked, “What’s going on?”

“I’m sorry to tell you, but there
was an incident this evening.”

“What kind of an incident?”
Chella asked, twiddling her thumbs.

“Mr. Stewart was being
transferred to the county jail this evening from the hospital. I’m so sorry,
Ms. Noon. He evaded custody.”

“Evaded custody?” Chella said.

“He escaped?” Mitch said, nearly
simultaneous to Chella’s question. “How could this happen?”

“He tricked the officers who were
escorting him. The details are under investigation.”

“So you’re telling me he’s out
there again, and he might come after me and possibly Mitch?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“Oh my God, I can’t believe this
is happening,” Chella said, raising her hands in the air in frustration.

“I have some more bad news,”
added Detective Carter.

“How could this possibly get
worse?”

“We searched his apartment and
found a journal detailing his intent to kill both of you. The photoshopped
images that were in the package that he sent you were on his computer, as
well.”

Chella’s stomach lurched. “I feel
sick.”

“I understand. The good news is
this allows us to bring him up on additional charges, apart from what Ms.
Marlow spoke to you about.”

“What good are those charges if
he’s out on the street, Detective?”

“Ms. Noon, we have a warrant out
for his arrest.”

“I hope you have a crystal ball,
too, because next time, we’ll be dead and it’ll be because of the police
department’s negligence.” She was shaking, her fists clenched and sweaty. She
knew it wasn’t Detective Carter’s fault, but he was there, across the table,
his hands clenched around keys that would take him back to his safe home and
safe family and she had none of that.

“I promise, we’re doing
everything we can. I’m one hundred percent committed to your case. I’m going to
try my hardest to get him back behind bars as soon as possible.