Page 61 of Scandalously Yours

Another of the officers placed his hand comfortingly on my arm. “EMS is going to keep us apprised of his condition.”

I knew that this would go from a crime scene to a murder one if he did not pull through. I rocked back and forth on my feet as I tried to dismiss the very idea of that happening.

“What’s your name?” one of the officers asked, and I responded, “Alessia Johnston.”

“Thank you, Alessia. We understand how hard this must be for you, but we need you to focus on what happened and tell us everything. It’s very important that you not leave anything out, okay?”

I nodded, and another joined in. “Now, we need you to think back and tell us exactly what happened,” another officer said, and I knew that they were right. I was wasting time that none of us had, especially the man I loved.

“Kristopher is a doctor, too,” I threw out there, then continued, “He’s in the process of getting divorced, and his wife did this.”

“Kristopher?” the fourth officer asked. “Are you talking about Dr. Kristopher Simon?”

I nodded. “Yes. Do you know...” Then I stopped midsentence when I realized what a stupid question that was.

Of course, they knew who he was. Everyone in New York City seemed to know who the Titans were. The brotherhood wasn’t some secret society, but rather a very public and elite group of men that were both respected and known citywide. It was obvious all four of these men knew exactly who he was.

“I know his wife,” one of the men said, then radioed in a call. “We need an APB put out on Hayley Simon. Consider the suspect armed and dangerous.”

They took control of the scene and I was shaking profusely by this time. Kristopher was headed to the trauma center where they would have the best chance of saving his life, and other officers were looking for the one responsible for it all. Everything was happening so fast, and I brought my hands to my face. When I pulled them away, I noticed Kristopher’s blood all over them and I let out a piercing scream.

Two of the officers had stepped away and were already cordoning off the crime scene. The bright yellow and black tape was draped around the dumpster, as well as up and down the small alley. Our phones and my purse were carefully collected, no doubt for evidence, and I was quickly going into shock. The adrenaline that had been fueling me since I was first put into danger was now wearing off. That was when one of the two officers beside me, asked another question.

“So, what brought this all on?”

God, I didn’t know how much to say to these men. I wanted so badly to tell them that I loved Kristopher and he loved me, and I also wanted to tell them that somewhere between the second and third round of sex last night that he’d made me agree to move in with him as soon as his divorce was finalized. I couldn’t, though. He was respected, and for good reason. If our relationship got out to everyone else, it would be so much worse for him. As it was, my own grandmother and mother disapproved of us together, so I knew that broadcasting it to the entire city would likely garner the same, if not worse, reception.

Then, there was the whole issue of our professional lives. I could single-handedly do what Hayley tried and failed to do which was ruin his entire life by ending his career as Chief of Staff. No, I had to be careful with what I said about us, but also completely truthful about Hayley so they would know how deranged she truly was. Since they knew Kristopher, they also knew his wife. She was a monster and not the sweet, classy wife she tried portraying in public.

“You have to find her,” I implored as fear returned tenfold, and the other officer nodded.

“We have an APB out on her. She should be rounded up soon and brought to the station for questioning. Right now, we need for you to tell us everything that happened here in this alley.”

I knew they were right, so I schooled my reaction and told them I had met Kristopher at a medical convention back in the Bahamas. I also went on to tell them that he was my boss at New York Presbyterian, and we had become friends. I wasn’t a suspect so there were no Miranda rights to be read, or nothing I feared I would need a lawyer for later. I continued to detail our professional relationship and was careful to not indicate that there was anything romantic between us. I talked about our meeting up for coffee. I had also told them that while he’d gone inside to get those drinks, I had stayed outside to take a call I’d received from my grandmother. All of that could be backed up through my phone records.

“Why do you feel the suspect wanted to hurt you?”

It was a logical enough question; however, this was where my partial dishonestly had to come in. I would need to be very careful with my words from this point on. “She was completely erratic when she first approached me. I had just hung up from my call, and she was right there. I knew who she was because she had previously been treated by me for some injuries a week or so ago.”

“What kind of injuries?” I knew Kristopher had been at the station that night, so this would also be backed up with records.

“She accused him of domestic violence, but he had an alibi as he was in surgery at the hospital. You see, the two are going through a bitter divorce. It was one of the reasons why I was so nervous before I even realized she had a gun. As a doctor myself, I’m used to seeing a variety of patients, and in my professional opinion, I think it was highly likely that she was on some sort of drugs at the time.”

They were writing down every word I said. I wanted to continue, but my throat got so dry and scratchy that I began to cough. I couldn’t seem to catch my breath no matter how hard I tried. I was scared, nervous, and in a serious need of a drink. “W-water,” I stammered. “I need a drink.”

One of the officers gave his partner a nod. “I’ll go get one from next door.”

As he rushed out of the alley, I tried to control my coughing. The last thing I needed was to hack up a lung, or die here from lack of oxygen which would’ve made Kristopher’s sacrifice for nothing. Just as quickly as the one officer left, he returned with a small cup of water. I drank it down in two big swallows, then crushed the empty plastic in my hand.

“Continue,” the officer implored, and I took a deep breath before doing so.

I began to talk about how she seemed to think there was something going on between me and my mentor. I detailed how she forced me into the alley. I also explained how she called me names while threatening to kill me. She was unstable, so I had tried to talk her down to no avail. This entire situation had been premeditated, even if she was high on cocaine, or whatever else. I wanted to make sure they understood that.

Kris might’ve gone easy on her over the years, if some of the things he told me about their marriage had been true, but I would offer no such thing. She didn’t deserve mercy or sympathy. She needed to be thrown into a cell, and have the key thrown away. Granted my vehemence and stance on her punishment was biased, I was unable to get the image of Kris lying in a pool of blood out of my head.

“How did the victim come to be shot?” I was asked, which brought me back to the present line of questioning.

Continuing with my story, I also explained that as soon as he came out of the coffee shop, he noticed his soon-to-be ex-wife holding a colleague of his at gunpoint. I pointed to the spilled coffee cups he dropped in front of the alley, and another officer quickly collected them for evidence. I then talked about how she made him join me, essentially holding us both up at gunpoint. I mentioned one or two of the accusations that she’d thrown out there about us.

---