Ethan
My temples throbbed.
We’d been grinding on the Fox case for the last several hours, interviewing a parade of witnesses and sifting through surveillance footage. It had been a relentless day, the kind where you forgot to eat, forgot to breathe, forgot you even had a bladder. My tie felt like a noose around my neck.
“From what I’ve gathered so far, Mr. Fox’s wife repeatedly exposed herself to the guards and made unwanted sexual advances toward them,” Emma stated.
“Which falls in line with creating an unprofessional and hostile work environment,” I stated, already drafting the legal argument in my head.
“Precisely. And in addition,” she continued, “the evidence indicates Mr. Fox failed to report the guards overtime hours.”
So, the bastard was also a cheat. Great. Just freaking great.
“Pull every payroll record for the last six months,” I instructed. “Compare them against the digital time stamps from their entry logs and cross-reference with the surveillance videos. I want to see every discrepancy.”
She nodded, her perfectly manicured fingers flying across her laptop keyboard.
A sharp knock echoed through the door, and Marcus strode in, his face a mask of barely contained fury.
“What’s going on?” I asked, my own muscles tensing.
“We have a problem. A big one. It requires I fly out to California tonight.”
My stomach dropped. “Why? What happened?”
“One of our guards is accusing Sable of assault and battery while he transported her to her hotel.”
I ran both hands down my face, a guttural groan escaping my lips. Sable. High-profile pop artist and daughter of a senator.
The urge to bang my head against the wall was strong. It seemed I was destined to be stuck here all night, putting out more fires. Again. And unfortunately, none of this could wait until morning.
“I’ve got this, Ethan.” Marcus’s assurance was firm, but it did little to squash the rising tide of dread in my gut. “I’ll keep you posted.”
He gave a curt nod and exited, the door clicking shut behind him. Even if I wasn’t the one flying out, I still had to play defense on my end, coordinating and strategizing while he was airborne.
I looked at Emma. She was staring at me with empathy. She knew. We both knew. It was definitely going to be a long, brutal night. But as I looked at her, at the quiet, resolute set of her shoulders, I understood. She wasn’t going to let me navigate this alone.
And for that I was grateful.