Justine was screaming and crying, claiming someone had pushed her and she didn’t deserve this, when Wiley stepped into her line of vision. All she saw was a familiar face and started begging.
“Brendan! Help me. I’m sorry. Help me!”
And then Aaron appeared, and she groaned. “I don’t feel so good. I’m seeing double,” she mumbled.
Now that she was cuffed, Wiley pulled her upright. “I’m not Brendan. And you’re not seeing double. We’re his brothers, and you’re going to jail for assault, drunk and disorderly, and destruction of property.”
“Noooooo,” Justine wailed. “Daddy will kill me.”
“I wouldn’t blame him,” Wiley muttered as he and Doug escorted her out of the bar and transported her to booking, leaving Aaron and the other officers to police the area as the medics transported the injured women.
After that, one of the waiters took over behind the bar, while staff began cleaning up the area.
Waylon Parker, the bar manager, had been in the bank when he got the call. He arrived on the scene and began apologizing profusely to the diners, then comped dessert for everyone on the premises.
Mike, the bouncer, drove himself and Louis to ER for treatment, and chaos in Trapper’s Bar and Grill finally came to an end.
But not for Justine. Her troubles were just beginning. She was booked into jail pending her arraignment and was still begging for mercy when they closed the cell doors. At that point, her tears dried up, and she shifted to curses and threats, until she realized there was no one around to hear her, then flopped down on the bunk and passed out.
***
Liz Devon was in the storeroom checking out the recent arrival of part of the shipment for Josie Fallin’s event when one of her staff came in running, wide-eyed and breathless.
“You willnotbelieve what just happened,” he said. “Jezebel Justine just got herself arrested in Trapper’s Bar and Grill!”
Liz gasped. “What in the world did she do? How do you know?”
“My wife is a waitress there, remember? She said Justine was drunk. Louis wouldn’t serve her any more liquor. Tried to offer her coffee. She started raising hell. He went to call the police and she threw a beer bottle at the back of his head. He’s bleeding, and she turns on the bouncer, scratches his face into bloody rows, and tries to make a run for it. But she’s so drunk that she staggers and falls onto a table of diners, knocks two women out of their seats. They’re both injured, and then she’s still trying to get away, slips in spilled ketchup and sits down in a basket of fries. I kid you not.”
“Oh my God!” Liz mumbled. “Does Larry know?”
He shrugged. “I’m not gonna tell him, that’s for sure. Oh…and here’s the irony. When Wiley Pope and his partner arrested her, she thought Wiley was Brendan.”
Liz was in shock. “This is a mess, and it could affect the hotel’s reputation. Like it or not, Larry has to know. Just lock the storeroom up for me. I’ll come back later tofinish inventory.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said.
Liz grabbed her clipboard and bolted, calling Larry’s office cell as she went.
***
It was just after lunch when Larry went to the penthouse to check on Justine. But she was nowhere to be found and his car keys were missing. He tried calling her, but it kept going to voicemail. He was going down in the elevator, cursing beneath his breath, when his phone rang. He answered without bothering to look at caller ID, hoping it was her, but it was Liz.
“Larry, it’s Liz. Have you spoken to Justine recently?”
His gut knotted. “No. Why?”
She sighed. “We have a situation. She got drunk in Trapper’s Bar and Grill, and to make a long, ugly story short, she assaulted the bartender and the bouncer and left them bleeding, fell into a table of diners, injured two women seated there, broke furniture, and was booked into jail. I have no idea how many charges will be filed against her, but this doesn’t just affect you and her. A scene like this affects this hotel’s reputation, as well, once it gets out who she is and where she lives. We’re going to suffer repercussions. You need to get a lawyer down there ASAP and deal with this.”
“Oh my God,” he muttered, and broke out in a coldsweat. “One more day, and I would have had her on a plane to Dallas. Do you have to tell Ray?”
“Of course, I have to tell him. This hotel is his business, not yours,” Liz said, and disconnected.
“Well, that explains why she isn’t answering her phone and where my car is,” Larry muttered. He rode the elevator down to the lobby, went to the concierge desk and asked for the shuttle van to be brought around, and had the driver drop him off at the police station.
He entered the lobby area, walked up to the desk, and introduced himself.
“I’m Larry Beaumont. I believe my daughter, Justine Beaumont, was recently arrested. Is she in jail?”