The Jaguar stopped in one of the slanted parking spaces in front of the Jericho County Police Department, and Charles turned off his engine. But Ashley, as usual, had moved on. “That is so stupid,” she said. “You see that Dad? There’re more signs for Bobby’s opponent than there are for Bobby himself.”
It was only when she said it did Charles notice it. Right in front of the station were many campaign posters signifying that the town was going to hold a special election in three months to select the next mayor of Jericho. Charles’s son, Robert Sinatra, was the interim mayor competing for his first full term. He was running against Winston Kaiser, a local businessman known to be as ruthless as Big Daddy. But Robert’s incumbency hadn’t been enough to overcome the fact that he was a Sinatra in a town that felt the Sinatras had too much power already, a fact that Kaiser exploited mercilessly. And it was working. The polls were virtually deadlocked.
“Why would Brent, the chief of police, allow his own brother’s opponent to put so many signs in front of the police station like this?” Ashley wanted to know. “If I ran the show, there’s no way Winston Kaiser would have the first sign anywhere near my office.”
“And you’d be wrong,” Charles told her. “That’s why Brent is allowing it. He’s going out of his way to make sure Kaiser has more signs than Robert. He doesn’t like to show favoritism. You know that, Ash.”
“I know,” Ashley said. “He and Tony, and Carly and Bonita, are your saint children. The rest of us? Me, Donald, and Robert?” She smiled. “I don’t know what you’d call us.”
“I know what I’m calling you,” Charles said. “I’m calling you a woman who’s about to make a statement. To police. About that abusive-ass boyfriend of yours.”
And just like that, Ashley’s smile left. “Do I have to, Dad?”
“Yes, Ashley, you have to. He’s not getting away with that.”
“Why do you keep saying that? You nearly killed him! He got the message not to touch me again. Why do you keep acting like he got away with something?”
“Go inside,” Charles ordered, “and tell your brother what happened. Then you tell him that you want to press charges.”
“Then I’ll have to deal with Brent wanting to beat his ass too, Dad!”
“Why is that your problem? He shouldn’t have laid a hand on you! Now get inside. And when you finish, get your ass to the office.”
“But Dad!”
“Don’t but Dad me.”
“I’m on sick leave.”
“I’ll show you what sick feels like. Now get in there. And when you finish, you get to the office.”
Ashley didn’t want to press charges, and she certainly didn’t want to go to work on a day she was hoping to take off. But she knew her father. Big Daddy, she knew, like her entire family knew, didn’t play.
She got out of the Jag and began making her way around the front of the car. But as she did, the front entrance to the station opened, and Eddie Rivers, Brent Sinatra’s second-in-command, walked out. When he saw Big Daddy and Ashley, he headed in their direction. Charles pressed down his driver side window.
“Looking for Brent?” Eddie asked as he approached.
“We were, yes,” Charles responded. “He’s here?”
“No, sir, he left.”
As soon as he said those words, Ashley felt a burden lift.
“Where is he?” Charles asked.
“He and Makayla got into it, very loudly I might add, over the telephone. He said something about how it was going to be over his dead body, whatever they were arguing about, and then he slammed the phone down, grabbed his suitcoat, and headed out. I figured he was heading home, and I’d better get over there in case he meant what he said. About it being over his dead body I mean.”
Charles knew Brent and Makayla were having their issues. He also knew Brent had that infamous Sinatra bad temper. “I’ll go,” he said to Eddie as he cranked back up. “I need you to take a statement from my daughter.”
“Sure thing, Mr. C.,” Eddie said, Charles backed out swiftly, and took off.
“What’s this about?” Eddie asked Ashley after Charles left.
“Men,” Ashley said, heading toward the entrance. “What else?”