Wrapped in one of the fleecy blankets from the sunroom, Lori was sitting down on the beach in front of the house watching the waves. When Maddy had called and offered to pick up the kids and take them to dinner, she had jumped at the opportunity for some time alone. The kids would be back after dinner but it gave her some much-needed space. Feeling trapped in the house, she’d come down to sit on the beach to think.
Lost in thought, she never heard anyone approaching until Grey and Paul sat down either side of her on the cold sand.
“You ok?” asked the band’s drummer, instinctively putting his arm around her shoulders.
Lori shook her head.
“We need to talk about this, Lori,” continued Paul softly. “I know there’s details you don’t want to hear right now. We respect that but we need you to hear us out here.”
Silently, she nodded.
Putting his arm around her from the other side, Grey said, “When we go back inside, we’re calling the police. You need to report those messages. No argument.”
“No,” replied Lori quietly, keeping her gaze locked on the ocean.
“Lori,” began Paul calmly. “You’ve no choice here. Those messages are important. You need to call the police. They need to be reported and investigated.”
“It’s complicated,” said Grey evasively. “But they are important evidence against that crazy ass bitch. Let the police look into it. Give them a chance to check out those unknown numbers. It's harassment if nothing else.”
“Will they take my phone?”
“Most likely.”
“I’ve photos of the kids on there. Personal photos,” said Lori quietly. “I don’t want to share some of those.”
“Look, I’ve no idea how these things work but I’m sure the police will take care of your photos,” reassured Paul, hugging her close. “You need to trust us here, Lori. This truly is the only option.”
“Why?” asked Lori, turning to stare at him with tear-filled eyes.
The two members of Silver Lake exchanged worried glances then Grey said, “As evidence against her. Jethro’s talking to Jake right now about this mess. They’ll be talking to the police too.”
“Why?”
“You sure you want to hear this, Lori?” checked Grey softly.
“No. I don’t want to hear anything about how my husband threw away his promises to me and had sex with that female!”
“That’s what I thought,” sighed Grey. “You’ll just have to trust us on this. Those messages need to be handed over to the police. She has to be stopped.”
“Please, Lori,” pleaded Paul, his tone almost desperate.
For a few long minutes she sat staring out to sea in silence then, hugging her knees tight, said, “Ok, I’ll do it.”
“Thank you,” sighed Grey his relief evident.
True to his word, as soon as they arrived back at JJL, Jethro called the Rehoboth Beach Police Department to report the series of sexual assaults against Jake. When two officers arrived to question the musician a short while later, they talked him slowly through the events leading up to the alleged assaults and to the assaults themselves. Much to Jake’s acute embarrassment, the officers told him he’d have to come down to the police station to allow a police photographer to photograph the intimate injuries inflicted by Nicole.
The whole time he was in the police station, Jake went through the various events, playing them over and over in his mind, trying to fathom out Nicole’s motive. Part of him felt as though he had to accept some of the responsibility. Patiently, he answered all of the officers’ questions, on occasion wondering about the relevance of their enquiries.
Eventually, he was thanked and informed that he was free to leave. It had been a humiliating few hours and he was relieved to return to the sanctuary of the studio house.
Sitting at her drawing board, as the clock ticked closer to midnight, Lori endeavoured to shut out the events of the day. It hadn’t been easy talking to the two police officers; hadn’t been easy disclosing such personal details to them. As predicted, her cell had been taken as evidence but Grey had promised to pick her up a new phone to use until her old one was returned to her. One thing she was thankful for was that the kids hadn’t been in the house. When Maddy had eventually dropped them off, both of them were worn out. With a wink, her friend had said, “Two hours at the playground and then a trail hike helped.” Bedtime had gone smoothly until Melody had asked when her daddy was coming home. All Lori had been able to reply was “I don’t know.”
Garrett’s album cover sat on her drawing board half-finished. After much discussion with him, Lori had convinced him that two hands would work better than the collage of hands he had initially proposed. The two hands that she had finally opted to use as her models were his and her daughter’s. She’d managed to get them to do a quick photoshoot before Garrett had retreated back to New York and now had the photo pinned to her board. He’d asked for a “traditional but realistic” feel to the design so, having experimented with various mediums, Lori had finally opted to paint the cover using watercolours. It had been years since she had adopted that technique but, now in the soft light of her workspace, she was finding the process therapeutic.
As she worked, she replayed the conversation with the police over in her mind. There had been two officers, one male, one female, sitting in her lounge room for over an hour but it was a comment by the male officer to his colleague as they rose to leave that kept playing over and over in her mind.
“Added to what Joe’s gathering, she’s looking at jail time.”
Lori assumed that “Joe” was a fellow police
