Different Circles

He took a quick drink of his beer and then added some oregano and fresh ground pepper to the butter. He took out a fork and began to mix it all into a consistent paste. “The burden of proof in a libel or slander case is on the person being slandered or libeled,” he explained. “In other words, when the National Watcher printed their story that you and Celia were ‘allegedly’ getting it on with each other every night out on tour, you and Celia would have had to prove by the preponderance of the evidence that you were not getting it on in order for a libel judgment to go in your favor. Even though you were not getting it on—well ... you know, except for that one night—there is no evidence of absence you can possibly provide, therefore you cannot prevail.”

“I understand,” she said. “But why is this different?”

He opened the hamburger package and divided the meat into four equal pieces, which he then formed into balls. “Because of those irrefutable facts that we have on our side this time,” he said. “There is evidence of absence in this situation. We can prove that that photo was taken with Ron the ramper’s camera at Pocatello Airport, not Sandpoint Airport. We can prove that Ron himself is the person in the photo, not a Venezuelan tranny. We can prove that virtually everything in that email is untrue except for the fact that we were in Sandpoint recently and that we did visit Barquisimeto with Celia recently. The media knows that the story is not true since Paulie has informed them and provided them with the facts at hand, so if they were to print it or put it on TV, they would be knowingly printing or broadcasting provably false information for the purpose of harming the reputation of you, myself, and Ron the ramper. That is the very definition of libel and slander. We would own them. They would be forced to print and/or broadcast a retraction of the story and they would be on the hook for huge punitive damages. They are not going to go there.”

“What if some reporter or media show that didn’t contact Pauline wrote a story or aired the email?” she asked. “They are not in possession of the information. Couldn’t they still get away with it?”

Jake used his thumb to put a large crater in each of the balls of meat. He then scooped out a healthy dollop of the garlic butter and put it inside each crater. “Journalistic ethics require that any reporter make an attempt to get our side of the story before printing or airing something like this,” he said. “At that point, Paulie would hit them with the facts. If they did not follow journalistic ethics and just printed without trying to get our side, they would end up in the same boat. Paulie would contact whoever printed or aired, provide those facts to them, and demand that they immediately retract the story and apologize or be sued for libel and/or slander.”

“I see,” she said, obviously feeling better about the whole situation now.

“So don’t worry, babe,” he assured her as he began forming the balls of meat into patties with the garlic butter trapped in the center. After a dusting of sea salt, this would make for juicy, flavorful burgers once they were cooked out on the gas grill on the deck. “We are totally in the clear on this thing. This will all disappear in a matter of days.”

“That’s good to hear,” she said.

At that moment, a chiming sound began to emit from the intercom speaker on the wall. They both looked over at it. The tone told them that someone had just pushed the call button on the gate that guarded the entrance to the property.

“Are we expecting anyone?” Jake asked.

“I don’t think so,” she said.

“Hmm,” he said. “Why don’t you go see who it is?”

She nodded and left the kitchen, heading for the office on the other side of the entertainment room. That was where the bank of computer monitors that displayed the security views—as well as the security panel that controlled the various alarms and gate openers—was located. She was gone less than thirty seconds. The tone continued to sound the entire time.

“Who is it?” Jake asked when she returned.

“There are three police cars out there,” she said.

“Police cars?” Jake asked. “What the hell?”

“What do we do?” she asked. “Ignore them? They can’t just come in here, right?”

“That depends on why they are here,” he said. “I’ll go talk to them and see what’s up.”