Derby felt a great weight rise from his chest when the officer pulled Jimmy up. No, really. What on earth was that doughboy eating these days? He propped himself up on his elbows and just breathed for a moment, letting his chin droop into the soft fabric of his polo shirt.
"I'm fine, officer." he said at last, lifted to his feet by the officer's strength. It felt sort of strange to be hauled around that way. He wasn't used to it anymore, though at one time he was. Derby sighed, brushing his hands over his chest and knees to clean what he could of his clothes. The jacket would be ruined, and his glasses were gone forever. His white pants had brown marks on them. His shoe had a scuff in it. The entire outfit was trashed. Jimmy truly deserved to spend the night in jail.
As to what they were doing on the boardwalk, Derby regained his composure and sniffed in superiority, lifting his chin. "It wouldn't be dangerous at all if the riff-raff were kept out. I'm going to speak to my father about installing a gate."
Finished cleaning himself up, Derby would have to check on Tad now. He looked absolutely miserable, being wet, half-naked, and bruised. Well, at least it wasn't Derby that looked like that. Tad had done his job today, and he supposed he deserved a little reward for being a good meat shield, also known commonly as a right hand man.
"That's very generous of your father, Spencer. I believe my father will add his own contribution this season as well." Derby smiled smoothly to the cop, then put a hand on Tad's shoulder. "Let's get you out of here," he whispered. He, at least, was moving on without thought for Jimmy.