Chapter 22
Chris
Sighing, I trail my fingers up and down Lily’s arm. Her cheek is resting on my pec, and she’s toying with my chest hair, her touch going straight to my cock.
“So, can you still be my attorney?” Lily asks.
“Uh…” I hesitate. I don’t regret for one second what happened, but it does complicate things somewhat. And her being my client was one of my concerns, but there’s no going back now. “You haven’t officially been charged yet, nor have you paid a retainer. So let’s just address that if we need to.”
She cuddles into my side even more. “I’m sorry I forgot about the laptop until now.”
“If you had told me about it days ago, I’m not sure I would’ve given it another thought. Going to see Bob was kind of a whim today when I really started thinking about how the firm could possibly fit into figuring out who tried to break in here and who did this to him.”
Her hand freezes for a moment before she tucks it between our bodies. Thinking she might be cold, I pull the comforter up and over her shoulders so only her head is sticking out.
“Bob brought up a good point: that the notes from his office may have made no sense alone, but it’s possible there’s something on the laptop that makes them understandable.”
I feel like this is some sort of jigsaw puzzle we’re solving without all the pieces.
“Should we hand the laptop over to the police?”
“If we find something, yes. They clearly didn’t care enough to find it since they didn’t when they searched the house, but you did.
And they haven’t asked you if you have the laptop, so it’s not obstruction.
” I kiss the top of her head just because I can now.
“But if there’s something helpful on there, we’ll absolutely turn it over. ”
She sounds so dejected when she says, “I don’t even know if I’ll be able to figure out the password. I have a few ideas, and I’ll look through his office again to see if I can find maybe a piece of paper or something with them on it. But it’s possible that I won’t be able to get in.”
I hug her into me and try to reassure her. “I’m not too worried about that. If you can’t figure out the password, I bet I can find an IT person who can hack into it for us.”
Jack or one of the other guys at Nash Security surely has a contact.
Her voice is muffled by the blankets and how she’s tucked in next to me, but I don’t miss the apprehension-laden words. “What if there’s nothing on there? What’s next?”
Taking a deep breath, I consider her question. It’s valid and something I worry about, but I’ll figure this out.
I have to. There’s no other option.
“I have an appointment with Vernon.”
The receptionist looks up at me and frowns. “Sir, with all due respect, I highly doubt you do. The only person on his schedule this afternoon is a woman. And she’s seventy-five.”
Putting on my most charming smile, I say, “Oh dang, you caught me. However, you did just tell me he only has one more appointment today, and it’s only”—I lift my arm, shaking my watch out of my sleeve on the way—“one p.m., which indicates he has plenty of time to meet with me. Just let him know Chris Rivers is here to see him. He knows who I am.”
She looks annoyed, but there’s a hint of amusement in her features.
Picking up the phone on her desk, she pushes a button.
After a few seconds, a man’s muffled voice comes through the line, and she glances up at me.
“Yes, sir. Mrs. Brown isn’t here yet, but there’s a Chris Rivers here.
He says you know him and that he’d like to talk to you. ”
There’s silence on the other side of the line before Vernon gives a clipped response, followed by a clatter of him hanging up the phone. The woman hangs up the receiver and waves her hand at the door. “You can go on in.”
Nodding in thanks, I make my way to the door. I don’t bother knocking before stepping inside.
“Vernon. It’s good to see you again.” I smile wide, taking a seat in front of his desk.
“Rivers, cut the shit. What the hell are you doing here?” His scowl is severe, but I’m not worried.
Sobering, I level him with a hard stare. “I need information.”
Vernon scoffs. “Don’t we all.”
Deciding I should change my tactic, I soften my tone. “Your client is dead, Vern. Lily needs your help. She told me you’ve always been kind to her.”
His glare lessens for a moment before hardening once again.
Banking on that brief glimpse of what I hope is compassion for the situation Lily’s in, I plead, “I just need you to share what you might know. Anything that could help us lead the detectives to the person, or people, who could’ve done this to Blake.
” I pause, noting his frown is still in place, but his eyes have softened.
“You yourself admitted at poker that the list of people he pissed off was long.”
“This is a complicated situation, Rivers,” Vernon grumbles.
Nodding, I go on, “I’ve gathered as much. And you know him better than anyone, probably even better than Lily did. You can tell me what he was up to before he was killed.”
By the time I finish my hopefully convincing speech, he’s looked away from me, staring out the window. My mind is going through all the possibilities of why Vernon would be hesitant to help me. There’s only one that makes the most sense—he’s involved somehow, beyond just being Blake’s attorney.
I’m debating offering him complete anonymity, regardless of what information he provides, when he looks back at me. “Give me your card. I’ll look through my records and email you what I feel I can share.”
Recognizing that this is as close as I’m going to get to a definite assurance that he’ll give me something, I stand and offer him my hand. “Thank you, Vernon. I know Lily will be grateful for your assistance.”
He takes my hand, his palm cool and clammy against mine. “Rivers, I hope you know what you’re getting into.”
“I do, Vernon.”
I definitely do not.
The sun is bright when I leave the overly dim office. I squint as I pull out my sunglasses and climb into my car. Checking my phone, I find a text from Mandi, reminding me of a court appearance I have in an hour and a half. I text her that I’m on my way before pulling out of the small parking lot.
I’m not sure what I expected from my meeting with Vernon, but I don’t think that was it. He clearly knows something. Whether it’ll be helpful something remains to be seen.
A street sign catches my attention, and I realize I’m in the wrong lane. Cursing, I flip on my blinker and use my assertive driving skills to slip in between two cars right before the turn. I make the turn right before a black SUV does the same.
A black SUV that was a few cars back and in the same lane as me before my turn.
“What the fuck…”
I make another quick, unnecessary turn.
I’m a few blocks down when I see the SUV make the same turn.
The hair on the back of my neck stands up. I press the phone button on my car’s console and tell it to call Carlos.
After a few rings, he picks up. The noise in the background tells me he’s somewhere public. “What’s up?”
I make another turn.
“Hey, so, question for ya. Any reason you all would be following me in a blacked-out SUV?”
The SUV makes the same turn.
The din of voices and commotion gets quieter before a door opens and closes.
“Say that again.”
“I’m being followed right now by an SUV and just wanted to see if it was Nashville’s finest wasting taxpayer money following me instead of criminals.”
The line is quiet except for typing on a computer keyboard. “Unless it’s TBI, which I highly doubt, I definitely don’t think it’s us.”
My eyes flick to the review mirror just as someone cuts off the SUV, and I internally cheer.
“That’s what I was afraid of. Thanks, Carlos.”
“I feel like you’re welcome isn’t the correct answer. But do you need something? Should I come to you with lights and sirens? Send patrol to pull them over? Put you in WITSEC?”
My friend is always one for dramatics.
Reading the street sign, I realize I’m close to the courthouse, and if I can get there, I should be good. They’d be idiots to follow me inside.
“Uh, I think I can lose them.”
“Chris, don’t be stupid and get yourself killed. What the fuck would someone be following you for?” Carlos sounds exasperated and confused.
Making a right, I tell him, “Technically, if something happens to me, it’ll be your fault. I would’ve never heard of Lily if you hadn’t called me.”
My heart clenches at that statement. Already, I don’t like the thought of not having her in my life. Which is insane. But crazy doesn’t negate the truth—I’m falling for Lily.
Shaking my head, I focus on the road. Seeing an opportunity, I swerve into the left-turn lane just as the light changes to yellow and make the turn. I let out a relieved exhale when the car between me and the SUV stops at the light rather than running it after me.
“I lost them,” I reassure him.
“Fuck, Chris. I think we need to talk.”
Checking my rearview mirror, I make the final turn before pulling into the courthouse garage. “Yeah, we probably do. I’ll call you in a few days.”
Before he can respond, I disconnect the call, needing a moment to myself before heading into court. There’s an odd feeling in my gut. It isn’t fear for my safety from what just happened. No, it’s a bone-deep dread that if something happens to me, there’s no one to look out for Lily.
And that scares me more than anything else.
I’m still a little rattled walking into court. But my client deserves my best, so I clear my mind of anything but what I’m about to do. Mandi and my client are already seated at one of the tables.
“Bill. Mandi. Sorry, I’m late. Traffic was a little crazy.”
Not a complete lie.
My client, Bill, stands up and shakes my hand. He’s a small business owner who hired a supposedly well-respected contracting firm to remodel his newly purchased office space. Since the work wrapped up, he’s had nothing but problems, from electrical issues to plumbing leaks to shoddy drywall work.