"Reynolds, that person was impersonating CJ."
Not that Brandon planned it, but when he tried to bullshit Reynolds the light came on. That's what he had tried to talk with Dean about earlier; something was different about CJ—at least for a little while. "It was an impersonator," Brandon said, mainly to himself.
Reynolds looked confused. "Why would somebody impersonate CJ?"
Instead of answering Reynolds, Brandon's inner voice kicked in. ‘Ok...impersonator, but from where? And why?'
"Hey, Brandon, bullshit somebody else, ok? You guys would never let a stranger in the booth; much less a stranger that looked like CJ."
"I don't...I don't even know who that person was, Reynolds. Didn't you see the police? Look, I feel your frustration from tonight. Believe me, man...I feel it, too—we all do! But, there's nothing strange going on."
"Police?" Reynolds' tough-guy act came down a few more notches.
"Yeah, that's right. As a matter of fact, we have to get CJ out of jail because the impersonator beat the hell out of someone...and CJ was blamed for it." Brandon stood up and started calling Reynolds bluff. "But hey, if you want to get CJ out of jail—instead of me...I'll be glad to go to Hilton Head with the crew."
"I don't know how to do that, so I—"
"It's not hard. Just post some bail so he can get out. But you'll have to spend all night in the police station...‘till he's free. Then you could personally talk to CJ about all of this. Sound good to you? I'm sure CJ will be in the mood for a lot of questions. And he's gonna' love being accused of doing strange shit. Yeah..." Brandon put his hand to his chin. "I like this plan."
"Ok...I'm not a get-your-pal-outta-jail, friend, ok? I work the truck; you work the show. And speaking of truck—I need to get moving. We're heading out soon." Reynolds backed away from Brandon.
Brandon grinned and picked up his bag.
Dean pulled his phone out of his pocket the minute he left the club. He punched a digit as he approached the SUV. "Sara, I need you to contact the Claw; wake him if you must. We need him to send legal representation to Savannah—right away. I'm off to the police station as we speak. Keep me posted, will you?"
E approached Dean as he hung up his phone; E was floating on air. "That was vicious! That was scandal! That was the most fun I have had in a long time, Dean! You were right about CJ; he is the dog's bollocks!" He cupped Dean's head in his hands and planted a big kiss on Dean's forehead. "I love the images...love ‘em!"
Tom came up behind E and extended his hand to shake with Dean. "You guys have something special here, Dean. Come back anytime."
"You bloody-well need to address some repairs before we'll return, Tom. That was simply out of control. Do you realize how much I've aged tonight?"
Finally, Brandon approached Dean from behind Tom, suggesting that they leave for the police station. Dean and Brandon climbed into the enormous SUV.
"You know we can't lie about this," Brandon said as he closed his door.
"Bloody hell, Brandon. With all the scatter tonight, are you really sure of what you witnessed?"
"I think...I saw CJ."
"You think," Dean emphasized. "Think, is not the same as, ‘know'." Dean stared at Brandon to see if he'd picked up the hint. Then Dean came back with a little more empathy. "Brandon, are you absolutely certain it was CJ?"
"I don't want to rat CJ out, but why did he pounce on that guy? I don't get it."
"You saw someone, Brandon. Do you hear me? You're not positive that was CJ, are you?"
"C'mon, Dean. I saw—"
"I'll answer that...no. That's all you need to report—‘nuff said?" Dean put the SUV in gear and drove away from the Interlude