Chapter 20
CHAPTER 20
Morgan
After Ollie dropped Roman off at the office, I had him take me to the police station to speak with Detective Lambert.
“Excuse me, is Detective Lambert in today?” I asked another handsome detective, noting that Detective Lambert’s desk looked like it hadn’t been used in a couple of days.
“No, he’s not. And he won’t be for a while. Is there something I can help you with?”
“Is he sick or something?” I asked.
“He’s in the hospital. His appendix burst, and he had surgery.”
“Shit.” I sighed.
“I’m taking over some of his cases,” he said. “I’m Detective Simon Kind.” He extended his hand.
“Morgan Ashley.” I placed my hand in his.
“Have a seat, Miss Ashley.” He gestured.
I explained to him the case I was working on. The funny thing was that he knew Roman and his brothers.
“Why wouldn’t Roman come to me with this?” he asked.
“Detective Lambert was the lead detective for the case,” I spoke. “I need you to put a wire on me. I’m going to get Gregory to confess to the murder tonight.”
His eyes narrowed at me as the corners of his mouth lifted. “You remind me of my wife.”
“Then she must be an awesome person.” I smiled.
“She is. But here’s the thing. A recorded confession won’t be enough. I mean, it’ll be enough to arrest him, but we’re going to need enough corroborating evidence to prove that he murdered that woman and to get Roman’s client out of prison.”
“I can get the evidence that will put him away for life.”
“You said that the judge agreed to reopen the case?” he asked.
“Yes. The trial starts in two weeks.”
“Let’s go.” He stood up.
“Where?” My brows furrowed.
“To see the judge and get a warrant.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s almost lunchtime. We can catch him.”
I drove with him to the courthouse. When we reached Judge Barrister’s chambers, his secretary wasn’t at her desk, so Simon opened the door.
“Good. You’re eating lunch.” Simon smiled.
“Detective Kind, now is not the time.” Judge Barrister sighed.
“Hello, your honor.” I stepped inside.
“Miss Ashley, correct?”
“Yes. We’re sorry to interrupt your lunch, but this is important.”
“You have five minutes,” he said. “I’m going to start locking my door.”
“We need a warrant for a wire for the Williamson case,” Simon told him .
“I’m going to get him to confess to the murder of Grace Norway tonight,” I spoke.
“For God’s sake. No.”
“What do you mean?” Simon’s brows furrowed.
“You heard me, detective. I cannot and will not issue a warrant for a wire without evidence that Gregory Williamson committed the crime.”
I heard my phone ding from my purse. When I pulled it out, I received an email I’d been waiting for—perfect timing.
“Here’s part of your proof, your honor.” I shoved my phone in his face. “As you can see, Gregory Williamson was the father of Grace’s baby. We have his car parked outside the restaurant the night of the murder, the receipt of the diamond necklace Grace was wearing, and the baby was his. I’ll also be able to provide more evidence soon.”
“Miss Ashley, what do you not understand? There’s no proof he committed the crime.”
“There will be once he confesses. There’s also a gap in his alibi. I believe he drugged his father during dinner, and as soon as he fell asleep, he left the house and went to that restaurant, murdered Grace, and then went back to his father’s house before he woke up. I’ll get the security footage from Mr. Williamson’s home showing that Gregory left.”
“Just like you believe he also murdered his mother?” Judge Barrister’s brow arched.
“Yes. He’ll confess to that, too.” I smiled.
“And how are you going to get him to confess?”
“Mind games, your honor. You already agreed to retry the case. Now, I need you to help me to get that confession.”
He stared at me momentarily. “You’re not leaving until I do it, right?”
“Nope. If I have to, I’ll sit in your courtroom all day where I will be in your perfect view, staring at you, reminding you that you sent an innocent man to jail.”
“Fine. You have your warrant. Now, get out of my office and let me finish my lunch!” he shouted.
“You’re good.” Simon grinned as we left the judge’s chambers. “You should come to work for the LAPD.”
“Nah. I like being a private investigator. But thanks anyway.” I smiled.
“Where to?” he asked, climbing into the car.
“Roman’s office, if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.”
I entered the building and took the elevator to Roman’s office. As I was walking down the hall, rock music was blaring.
“What is going on?” I asked Olivia.
“It’s what Roman does when he needs to think hard about a case,” she said.
“Oh my God. How can you stand it?”
“We can’t. But we can’t say anything. He owns the firm.”
I opened his door, and Radiohead’s song “Creep” pierced my ears.
“Can you turn that off?” I shouted.
He turned his chair around, stared at me, picked up the remote from his desk, and turned the music off.
“So, I hear you blast music when you’re thinking hard about a case,” I said, sitting in the chair across from his desk.
“I do. It helps me think.”
“It gave me an instant headache. So, thank you for that. Anyway, we’re going to pay Gregory Williamson a visit tonight, where he will confess to the murder of Grace Norway. Judge Barrister signed a warrant for a wire, which I will wear.”
“You saw Judge Barrister?” His brows furrowed .
“Detective Simon Kind and I did. By the way. He says hi.”
“Simon? I don’t understand.”
“Detective Lambert had to have surgery and is in the hospital. Simon is taking over some of his cases.”
“And how did you get the judge to sign a warrant for a wire? There isn’t enough evidence yet.”
“He likes me.” I smiled. “Simon is coming to my hotel suite tonight to put the wire on. Then, we’ll head over to Gregory’s house and act like we need to speak to him about something.”
“There is no way you’ll get him to confess,” Roman said.
“Why do you doubt me?” I narrowed my eyes.
“Nobody in their right mind would confess to murder voluntarily.”
“Who said he would do it voluntarily?” I smiled, standing up. “I’ll see you later.”
“Morgan, wait!” he shouted.
I walked out and shut the door. The less he knew, the better.