Page 38 of Without You
“A cop picked him up outside the gate at Waterfall Estates. He left his car on the side of the road and tried to enter on foot when the security guard called the police.”
“What was he doing there?” Waterfall Estates was the gated community where they’d lived before the divorce.
“I don’t know. The guard didn’t recognize him, thought he was some random drunk dude trying to force his way onto the property. T has a little bit of cash on him, but no wallet or I.D. They could have arrested him for public drunkenness, but the cop recognized him, took him down to the station, and gave him the chance to make a phone call.”
She pressed a hand to her forehead. “Why did you call me?”
“Because I’m in Europe, and if I call anybody else, we risk the incident leaking to the press. Aside from the fact that he don’t need any more negative press, he don’t need to be seen as getting preferential treatment.”
“Even though that’s exactly what happened?”
“Yes.” Bo sounded defeated, as if he fully expected her to say no.
Charisse sighed. “Which station is he at?”
He told her and gave her the name of the sergeant, adding, “Thanks a lot, Charisse. I know he’s not your responsibility, but I really appreciate you doing this. And I know Terrence will, too.”
She climbed out of bed. She needed to tell Ennis that she would be leaving him in charge when she left. “Are you sure about that?”
“I’m one hundred percent sure. I don’t know how he’ll react when he sees you, but trust me, it’s better that you go than anyone else. He knows that, too.”
She stopped outside her son’s door. “Okay, Bo. I’m on my way.”
They both hung up.
Why was she going? Because despite what happened between them, she didn’t want him to “give them reporters nothing to write about.”
She knocked lightly on the door and walked in to talk to her son.
* * *
Charisse hated police stations.Even when the officers were friendly, they intimidated her because of the amount of power they wielded. She approached the officer stapling papers at the front desk, a tall white male with bushy brows.
“Can I help you?” he asked without looking at her.
Charisse cleared her throat and clutched the strap of the purse over her shoulder. “Yes, I’m here to see Terrence Burrell. I was told to ask for Sgt. Desmond.”
He looked up at her and frowned slightly, as if he wanted to say something. “Down the hall, take a right, last office on the right.”
“Thank you.”
She followed the instructions and ended up in front of an open office filled with cubicles. A black woman sat at the front of the room at a large desk. Terrence sat in a chair against the wall to the right of the desk, facing Charisse. His head rested against the wall and his eyes were closed. He wore jeans, tennis shoes, and a white tee. She doubted he was asleep, but he remained as still as someone who was. He looked tired and worn, and her heart ached.
“May I help you?” The black officer looked directly at Charisse.
“Are you Sgt. Desmond?”
Terrence’s eyes flew open and he sat up straight.
“Yes.”
“I’m here for Terrence Burrell.”
The sergeant stood with a pen in one hand and rested the other hand on her hip. “Next time a few autographs won’t keep him out of jail,” she said, arching an eyebrow.
“Yes, ma’am. I understand,” Charisse replied, as if she were somehow responsible for the position Terrence found himself in.
“You’re free to go,” she said to Terrence.
