The Love Of Money - S02 E191

Story 1 month ago

The Love Of Money - S02 E191

Read Story: SEASON 2 EPISODE 191

Now that I was alone, I wanted to launch myself out of the chair and search through my stuff to make sure it was all there… that there wasn’t anything that could be incriminating.

Then I remembered that Reynolds had turned on the camera and hadn’t turned it off before he left. It was still recording. I would have bet a million dollars that it had been intentional—he was a clever son of a bitch.

Instead, I decided to give him nothing besides a recording of me simply staring around the room, looking bored. At least he wouldn’t be able to see my internal screaming.

As someone who had been constantly busy for the last few months—either learning how to manage a portfolio that spanned a global chain network of companies or having sex with incredibly gorgeous women—I found it especially difficult to sit there and do nothing. All I could think about was what Bobbi might have told Reynolds. What if others decided to talk? What if Jessica said anything?

The torment of sitting there, stewing in my own thoughts, lasted for roughly ten minutes before the sound of an opening door pulled me out of my reverie, making me twitch in my seat.

“Mr. Upton,” Reynolds said, coming into view as he stopped by my desk. “I’ve brought your representation.”

The sound of a chair sliding across the office’s rug drew my attention to the welcome sight of Helen as she sat next to me. She offered me a brief smile, but otherwise remained calm and collected, radiating that chilled exterior that was so familiar.

The effect was only slightly spoiled by the fact that she was still wearing her workout attire.

“Now, Mr. Upton, as I was saying—”

Helen interrupted him. “Mr. Reynolds, since my client has requested representation, I would ask that you direct all your questions through to me.”

God bless this blonde angel warrior.

The detective looked annoyed. “Before asking me to get you, I’d requested Mr. Upton’s phone in the spirit of cooperation with my investigation. It might speed up the process.”

“My client declines,” Helen said.

“We have a warrant to search the premises for any signs of abuse.”

“Is my client’s phone specifically named in the warrant?”

“We have reason to believe relevant parties utilized that phone.”

“The warrant covers Ms. Nanford,” Helen countered, “not Mr. Upton or his phone. You’re permitted to search the premises because she resides here. That does not apply to Mr. Upton’s phone. It contains privileged communications and confidential material, and per Riley v. California, speculative access isn’t enough. You don’t get to violate the Fourth Amendment just because the phone has been in a room at the same time as Ms. Nanford.”

Reynolds stared at Helen, his lips compressed into a thin line. “Ms. Nanford’s already told us quite a bit about her situation here. I think it might be in your client’s favor to cooperate with us.”

Helen gave him a brittle smile. “If you have everything you require to file formal charges, then you shouldn’t need my client’s cooperation or any information from his phone. If you do need to access his phone, I suggest you get a warrant specifically for that.”

The silence was tense as Reynolds fixed Helen with a glare.

“I’m curious,” Helen continued, “Have you read Ms. Nanford her rights?”

“She’s not in our custody. She’s free to leave whenever she wants.”

Helen glanced at the camera, which continued to record everything. “I assume you’re recording all our interviews?”

Reynolds nodded.

“And if I were to play back any conversation you had with Ms. Nanford, I wouldn’t see her attempting to leave at any point, in which you implied that she couldn’t?”

The detective didn’t respond.

Helen tsked. “You’re walking a fine line, detective. Please ensure that Ms. Nanford is aware of her rights and that she is allowed to go wherever she wants. If we find that neither of those things has been provided, we will take the New York Police Department to court.”

Jesus Christ… no wonder Helen made the big bucks.

Reynolds looked like he was chewing rusty nails—jaw clenching and unclenching, canted to one side.

“May I have a few moments alone with my client?”

The detective didn’t move.

“Detective Reynolds…”

He shoved off the desk and started toward the door.

“Camera off, please,” Helen called out.

He stopped, turned around, and pointed the remote at the camera.

“Please take it with you,” Helen said.

Without a word, Reynolds stalked to the device, unsapped it from its tripod, and made his way to the door, his stance nowhere near as carefree as when he first entered the office.

The door shut behind him—a little too loudly.

“God,” I breathed.

“Took you long enough,” Helen said.

I balked. “I’m sorry… I’ve never been in trouble with the law like this before, Helen. I was taught to respect the police, so my knee-jerk reaction is to do whatever they say.”

“You need to unlearn that fast. You’re too high-profile to talk to the police without a lawyer present.”

“Noted,” I said. I looked her up and down. Seeing her this way—wearing everyday workout attire—made her feel more approachable… less like a goddess and more human. Sure, I’d seen her without makeup, naked, sweaty, and chest heaving. It was always either that or pristine and professional. Right now, though, she felt more real than ever.

“That was amazing, by the way,” I said.

Her gaze softened, and she actually cracked a warm smile. “Thank you… Sir.”

Despite the seriousness of the situation, I detected a hint of flirtation behind the ‘Sir.’ I wanted to act on it—to throw her to the floor and show her how impressed I really was by her legal acumen—but dammit… now wasn’t the time or place.

“So, what next, counselor?”

“Well, Bobbi hasn’t given him a smoking gun yet, or he wouldn’t be asking questions right now. That means she’s either not cooperating or she’s weighing her options.”

“You haven’t talked to her yet?”

Helen looked at the door worriedly. “No, and that has me concerned. I assumed she would ask for me, but it might not have occurred to her. I’m hoping Reynolds reads her rights and that she acts on them, requesting me as her lawyer.”

“Has anyone else done that?”

“Erin did it before they even got her to her office. She hasn’t been questioned yet, but I have to be present whenever they do.”

“So, they have every single one of you separated?”

Helen nodded. “More officers arrived to help manage the search and interrogation after we were all escorted out of the living room. I think Reynolds is playing it safe… didn’t want this to become a spectacle.

Chloe’s beside herself. She was about ready to shoot a couple of the officers, but I convinced her to stand down and just wait for everyone in the living room. She’s not happy about it, but she’s smart enough to understand what’s going on.”

“This has to be about the murder, right?” I said. “This isn’t just about Bobbi.”

She glanced around the room. “I agree. This is his attempt to get his foot in the door so that he can hunt for evidence linking you to Rajesh’s death. They’re going through the entire apartment, searching for every room.”

“Every room? Can he do that?”

“Under the pretext of looking for evidence for Bobbi, yes.”

“Even my office? It doesn’t have anything to do with Bobbi. I didn’t think he could just search wherever he wanted.”

“He can, within reason,” Helen said. “Bobbi lives here, and it’s reasonable to assume that she’s been in all these rooms.”

“But not phones?”

“Phones are different—there are private pictures, messages, and financial data stored on them. They have their own special set of rules.”

“So, what do I do while he continues the investigation?”

“The only thing you can do is wait, and not say anything to them without me being present,” Helen said.

I picked up my phone. “I could just text Bobbi.”

My lawyer laid her hand on top of mine. “I wouldn’t do that. Someone’s with her when she’s not there. If everyone starts getting text messages from each other and the police catch on, it could look incredibly suspicious and might even trigger a phone-specific warrant.”

“Helen, I can’t just sit here and do nothing.”

“Honestly, Marcus, that’s the best thing you can do.” She leaned in and pressed her mouth to mine. There was no tongue… no nuclear makeout session. It was a sweet kiss full of gentle meaning. “Trust the team you’ve put together to work for you,” she murmured against my lips.

I wanted to argue that my team consisted of a hateful bitch and my ex-girlfriend, but I couldn’t think of a legitimately real thing that I could contribute to the situation. She was right. I had to trust that my people knew how to do their job… and that Bobbi and Jess preferred their current lives to the alternative.

Loud knocking on the door made both of us jump, and Helen sat straight in her seat.

“Hurry it up!” Reynolds said from the other side.

My lawyer got to her feet, gave me a smile, and then strode to the door. She opened it, and Reynolds came in with an officer behind him.

“Mr. Upton,” Reynolds said. “If you’d kindly follow Officer Johnson back to the dining room, I’d like to use this space for other interviews, now.”

I opened my mouth to tell him that I would stay here, thank you very much, and that he could find another place to interrogate my people, but a look from Helen encouraged me to keep my mouth shut. It would be a dumb place to draw a line in the sand.

“Of course,” I said, stepping forward to follow the officer out of the study.

As I passed, I threw Reynolds a dirty look. Maybe it was in my best interest to cooperate, but I didn’t have to like it, and I didn’t have to pretend.

***