Chapter 2: A Dark Secret

As it happened, Josh Hartwell arrived just as Judy and Dani returned to the waiting room. Cliff made the introductions, explaining that Hartwell was his boss during the summer, and that he wanted a word with Judy. Judy Olsen had dealt with more than one lawyer in her life, and she squinted at the man with her head tilted.

"How can I help you, Mr. Hartwell?"

Josh Hartwell was a good looking S.O.B. He was tall, he was trim, and he could have given some A-list actors a run for their money in the looks department. Strangely, he did not turn on his considerable charm and rather looked at Judy Olsen with an embarrassed look on his face.

"I'll come to the point, Mrs. Olsen. The driver with whom your son collided last night is my niece, my sister's daughter."

"Melanie Renault, the actress," Kylie supplied.

"Yes, Melanie. Strangely, she asked to contact me when she woke from the anesthesia, asking me to act for her. Now, I was at the police precinct this morning and the preliminary police report does not look good for my niece. This being said, we must of course wait for the investigation to run its course. I was informed that a final report would not be coming before next week. By the way, this is Sgt. Donelly's card. He is in charge of the investigations."

Judy accepted the card and stowed it away. "And you want us to hold still until the final report comes out?"

"Yes. In return I can promise you no preemptive action from our side. I am not versed in traffic law, but my niece signed a power of attorney for me, so I'll call the shots for whoever takes her case. I'll do more. I'll identify two colleagues from good firms. You can pick one, and my niece will take the other, but not before we know the basic facts."

Judy nodded judiciously. "That sounds like a straight deal."

"Thank you. There is another thing. My ... my sister gave a statement to the press this morning, blaming your son for the accident and calling him names. I assure you that Melanie is not behind this and that she would not want this. I ask you to not hold my sister's words against my niece."

He backed off a step when he saw the intense fury in Judy Olsen's eyes. She controlled herself though.

"Thanks for the warning. I'll try not to hold it against you. That doesn't mean your sister will get away with anything."

"We are not close," Josh answered. "I do not condone her public rants either. It's Melanie I'm worried over. She used to be a good kid, but in the last years ... I don't know." He stood straight. "Can you tell me how your son is doing in there?"

"He is sedated heavily and they operated on his spine. They say that they can pick up nerve signals downstream of the injury."

Josh exhaled. "That sounds promising, doesn't it?"

Judy shrugged. "The doctors will not commit. We have to wait."

"Are there other injuries?"

"A concussion and some road burn. Haematomas on both thighs where he slammed against the handlebar."

"Oh, dear!" Hartwell sighed. "Ma'am, do you have a place to stay for the next days?"

"They can stay with us, Josh," Kylie interceded. "You know we live nearby."

"Oh, right. That's kind of you, Kylie."

"Yes, it is," Judy asserted. "Is there anything else, Mr. Hartwell?"

"No, Ma'am. Thank you for your time and the best of luck!"

"That we can use," Judy answered seriously.

"Cliff, why don't you help out Mrs. Olsen for the next days? Let's call it hands-on experience in damage control. It's something you will often need in our line of work."

"I'll do that, Sir," Cliff answered. When Josh had left he turned to Judy. "What's next? The police?"

"That would be best. Does Danielle have to go with us, or could we unload her at your place. She hasn't got a wink of sleep since 1 a.m."

"Sure. Let Cliff drop us off and I'll tuck her in," Kylie smiled, not eager to visit a police station either.

Sgt. Donelly was a wiry fellow of advanced age who walked with a slight limp. He greeted Judy and Cliff cordially, even more so when he learned that both had a law enforcement background. He gave them the facts as he knew them, so far mostly based on the testimony of the two paramedics and of a truck driver who had been behind the small convertible.

"Unless you son was DUI, no blame attaches to him. Of the girl, I'm not so sure. Between us, she was wearing a party dress, so we're running alcohol and tox tests. Of your son too, just so we're safe. Little chance of that though. We found out that he had just ended a shift working at LAC/USC. No time to get a beer. The girl has no priors, but she's known for being a little bitch. Well, it's going to be some time before she'll show her face on camera again."

"Facial trauma?" Cliff inquired.

"She must've been hit by the young man as he was thrown over her. His boot or something. Bad case of the raccoon face, and her nose needed fixing. Some cuts too. Be expensive to fix."

Judy shrugged. "That's not helping my son. Can I get a copy of the testimonies?"

"Sure thing, Deputy. The lab work will come back in three or four days. This isn't the highest priority as you will appreciate, and I'd rather have it done right than quick."

He prepared Xerox copies of the witness statements and printed the photographic evidence for Judy before showing them out. He had his priorities.

It was two days later and Melanie Renault was coming off the painkillers and regaining consciousness. Slowly the events of two nights before resurfaced in her mind.

She had no recollection of the accident to which the nurses and the young resident referred to, but she remembered the party, she remembered Don Brentano. The recollection made her wince. She'd thought that she had left him behind, buried deep in her mind, but she only had to see him to relive the horrible night six years before.

After another party at their house, Brentano had stayed behind and was given their only guest room. Lana wanted to cultivate him because he was a successful producer and Lana needed jobs. Melanie was fourteen at the time. She had not seen much of the party and she had gone to her bedroom early.

When she woke up, her pajama top was already bunched up under her arms with her tiny breasts exposed and a rough hand was yanking the bottoms down over her legs. A heavy hand covered her mouth and then thick fingers began to press into her untried opening. That was when she uttered her first of many muffled screams.

When he was finally finished, he fell asleep on top of her hurting body almost smothering her with his weight. Trembling with fear she freed herself and limped across the small hallway to her mother's bedroom, wincing and whimpering with fright and pain. She had her second shock then, seeing her mother on all fours with another party guest humping her from behind. Melanie threw up violently and the retching tore Lana Hartwell from her coupling.

"Good God, Mel, can't you knock, you stupid brat?" she hissed, but it was her partner, a fellow actor named Peter Moran, who made the connection first.

"Jesus, girl! What's happened?"

That was when Lana saw the blood running down Melanie's legs. She was strangely cool.

"Did that old lecher Don do that?" she asked matter-of-factly.

Melanie whimpered and nodded.

"That bastard! Oh, I'm gonna make him pay for that!" Lana promised.

Melanie expected her mother to call the police, to shoot Brentano, to stab him, anything. Yet, what Lana had meant with "pay" was in the strict sense of the word. She told her bed partner to leave, saying that he would not want to get involved in this, and he happily escaped into the night. Then Lana produced a digital camera and took pictures of the naked and shivering Melanie, of the snoring Brentano in Melanie's bed, of the torn and bloody pajama bottoms. She also wiped Melanie's hurting genitals clean with a fresh dish towel which she folded and put into a Ziploc bag.

"He's going to pay, Baby!" she promised her daughter.

And Brentano paid. Once he woke up, Lana confronted him with the evidence she had collected and gave him an ultimatum. Four weeks later, Lana was cast as a co-star in a new soap, at an inflated salary and with veto rights on the scripts. Money was no issue either and Melanie was sent to an expensive private school in the fall. When Melanie asked her mother why she had not called the police, she was told not to be stupid. They were set up nicely now and she would have lost her virginity soon enough anyway.

For a year or more, Lana pampered her daughter with everything Brentano's money could buy, with one exception – counseling was not among the things Lana thought necessary for her daughter. That was why she had never really coped with the events, why she became unglued upon seeing the man at their house. That, and her mother's repeat betrayal.

She'd had enough presence of mind to ask for Uncle Josh to be called when she woke briefly after her emergency treatment, and she had begged him to keep Lana away, something he promised. So far, the promise held. She would be released from the hospital and find her own place to live. Maybe she could relocate somewhere out of state, perhaps on the East Coast. In fact, anything as long as she was far away from Lana and from Brentano. With this thought she drifted off again.

When she woke up next, Uncle Josh was sitting in her room watching her. She tried to smile but it hurt too much.

"Hey, Mel! You were out of it for quite some time."

"What happened, Uncle Josh?" she whispered.

"You had an accident, Mel," he said gently. "On Route 110. Can you remember anything?"

With an effort, she shook her head. "No. I remember the party. I remember D-Don Bren ... tano sh-showing up, and I b-bolted. Then nothing."

"Mel, you had an 0.07% blood alcohol level. The report isn't official yet, but somebody owed me a favor. When the report gets out, you will be charged. Do you realize that?"

A sick feeling spread from her stomach and she swallowed. "Ch-charged?"

"DUI and reckless endangerment at the least. The young man you hit was dead sober and riding along within the speed limit. There is no way out I'm afraid. Mel, this isn't going away."

"Young man? How?"

"You hit a motorcyclist head-on when you swerved into the oncoming traffic. He's badly injured. I spoke to his mother already and he may be in the wheelchair for the rest of his life. There is some hope he'll recover, but we have to wait.

"I'll have to retain a specialist colleague for you and we'll try to go for a plea. Is there anything mitigating that you can tell me? Were you threatened? What's with Lana?"

Melanie hardly heard her uncle by now. Her thoughts were revolving around the fact that she had ruined an innocent man's life. Was this nightmare of a life ever ending?

Josh left a little while later finding his niece unresponsive. He reasoned that she was still suffering from shock and would need more time to recover. On the way out, he stopped by the room where David Olsen had been transferred from the ICU. He was still in an induced coma to let his cracked vertebra heal, and he was still hooked up to a shitload of monitors while his mother and sister sat in the room talking in low voices. Josh knocked and was beckoned in.

"Hi. I was visiting my niece and I thought I'd drop by to hear if there is any news on David?"

Judy Olsen shrugged. "Nothing changed since yesterday. They'll try to wake him tomorrow. Then we may know more."

"Is there anything I can do for you? Any needs?"

Judy shrugged and looked at him. "Right now, we're okay. Cliff and Kylie have been great."

"They're good people and immensely talented. Look, I'll leave you alone for now, but if there's anything you need, I'm only a phone call away. Okay?"

"Okay. Thank you. How is your niece?"

"I broke the news to her of what happened. It was a shock for her. She does not remember the accident or the minutes before. She's not quite responsive right now."

Judy fixated him with her eyes. "You said she is a good kid. Yet, when you believe the newspapers, she's a little bitch. Care to reconcile?"

"Things went to her head a little bit. The media attention, the pressure, the fan culture. I still remember her as the kid I took to ball games. I can't see her as a bitch."

"Fair enough. She's your kin and I shouldn't have asked."

"I, hr-hm, received some advance warning. Alcohol and tox screens came back. Your son was clean as a whistle."

"Thanks. Nothing new to me though," Judy answered. "Your niece?"

Josh sighed but decided to be honest. "She's got some explaining to do once the report becomes official. She clocked in at 0.07% BAL. Not legally drunk, but clearly intoxicated. And she's twenty. I don't even know how we can reach a plea. There's nothing we can offer to the DA."

"A slam-dunk with lots of publicity. Careers can be built on this," Judy commented cynically. "Well, all that won't help David getting back on his feet."

"About that, I contacted Mel's insurance to bring them up to speed. They have already involved their legal crew. You may want to seek representation if your son is to see a penny."

"The usual games?" Judy asked.

"You can expect hardball. Treatment costs are bound to be very high, not even counting compensation. So they'll fight for every penny."

"I better put a mortgage on my house, huh?"

"Listen, I'll run it by Melanie once she's responsive and clear. She has a rather large fortune in trust from her father, and I'm the trustee. She could front you the money for the treatment costs. That will take the pressure from you to settle for pennies. I can also find a competent representation for you. Once the insurance guys face a strong headwind, their offers will improve."

"That sounds helpful, but I cannot make decisions for David. He's of age."

"Of course. I only want you to know what to expect."

"Again, thanks," Judy smiled.

"Never mind. I'll be on my way then," Josh said hastily. There was something about Judy Olsen's eyes that made him uneasy.

"Oh shit!" Melanie exclaimed.

She was staring at her mirror image. An hour before, a nurse had removed the catheter, and Melanie was allowed to get up. Now the nurse was giving her a sponge bath in the little bathroom, and Melanie saw her face for the first time, or what was left free by the bandages. The pain in her broken nose was waning, but she could see the deep violet of the bruises under the white gauze that covered most of her face.

"That's going to fade in a few days," the nurse said sympathetically. "You want me to wash your hair?"

"It's probably a wasted effort the way I look, but yes, thank you," Melanie mumbled.

The nurse had her sit with her back towards the basin and made her lean back. She was good and did not even get a drop of water of the bandages as she shampooed and rinsed Melanie's shoulder-length brunette hair.

"Do you know how the ... Damn, I don't even know his name! The young man I hit, how is he doing?"

"His name is David Olsen. He woke from the induced coma yesterday morning and they are testing him. That's all I know. His mother and sister are with him all the time."

"Who is he? What does he do?"

The nurse sighed. "We know him quite well here. He was working down at the ICU before the accident. He's a pre-med at USC, but he's also a second-string player with the Trojans."

"Oh, shit! Now I remember the name! I saw him twice last fall when I saw the Trojans. Davy Olsen! Oh, fuck!"

She remembered the blonde small forward coming on during the third and fourth quarters as replacement for the starter. He was only about 6'5", but he'd moved well and he had a serviceable hook shot.

"They moved him from the ICU. He's only a few doors down the hall," the nurse continued absentmindedly while combing out the worst tangles in Melanie's hair.

Once finished, Melanie put on a real pajama, left for her by Uncle Josh. He had also got her a light blue terrycloth robe along with some basic toiletries. Once the nurse left her, Melanie sat on her bed in her robe. Knowing the person she'd hit made things even worse for her, and the brief high she'd felt over getting clean again quickly evaporated. There was a young man who might never walk again and it was her fault.

She could only imagine what the press would say once the full story became public. She was labeled as the little bitch anyway and now she would be slammed even worse. The scandal sheets would have a field day for sure. Uncle Josh had to resent her as well. For years, she had not spoken to him, had not visited him. Only when things turned to shit, she did remember him. Oh, he was helping, but it had to be with a great deal of reluctance.

She switched on the TV to distract herself and watched a news show. Another road side bombing in Afghanistan had killed two Marines. Again. A ring of pedophiles was busted in Spain, with over 50 arrests and more coming. A major computer maker was laying off eleven hundred workers. What a shitty place this world was!

Then they cut to local news and a picture of Lana Hartwell was shown. The anchor woman gave a smirk.

"More controversy over Lana Hartwell. The actress and mother of Melanie Renault had blasted the victim of Melanie's crash as a "reckless, low-life biker person" and accused the young man of hurting her daughter. She had also labeled the victim's family as "Montana white trash". Now, as more facts emerge, she has come under fire both from the law enforcement community and from several civil rights groups. WNBC's Germaine Hendricks was at a press conference where the victim's mother spoke up."