Chapter 24 #2
“I just want it to be over.” I explained.
“Do you understand? I swear I’m not going to fight this divorce and I’ve adhered to the terms of that non-disclosure clause. It’s all a big mistake anyway. Did he tell you I cheated? I mean, he must have, that’s the alleged reason he wants a divorce. It’s not true, you know. Matt’s wrong and a bit dense, even though he’s really smart. Those pictures were fabricated.”
Why was I even bothering?
If Matt didn’t believe me, his lawyer certainly wouldn’t.
And I had bigger problems right now, two to be precise.
Two problems causing a strain between me and my best friend because I had as of yet to notify their father of their fragile existence.
Dante had taken umbrage over my ongoing hesitation to tell Matt and this was the worst possible time for us to be at odds, but I guess Dante had his own daddy issues.
He honestly believed Matt should have a say in any decision concerning my double problem, he kept saying I was being unfair to Matt.
Bastard.
He didn’t even get along with Matt, now all of a sudden he was concerned about Matt’s rights?
I shook my head and focused on the man sat across the desk with a stern frown on his face.
Mr Collins chastised me.
“You should get legal representation, I strongly advise you to.” His heavy warning increased my anxiousness.
I chewed the insides of my cheeks for a second then said, “Ok, but you’ll remind Matt for me. Let him know I am not asking for anything. I don’t want this turning into a fight. He knows that, right? I mean, when we last saw each other, he-I-” My eyelids fluttered.
“We came to an agreement. Did he mention that?”
Mr Collins leaned back against the chair, his perusal this time was intense.
Searching, suspicious, fleetingly uncertain; before blankness.
Licking his lower lip, he tilted his head and sent me a professional smile.
“I see you are exactly as he described.”
“Well don’t believe the hype.” I shot back morosely.
Matt was going to screw me over.
I could feel it in my bones.
The marrow in my bones felt it.
Mr Collins, in his fancy suit and nice shoes, would be the one screwing me on Matt’s behalf.
“How much does a lawyer of your calibre cost?” I mused as I began to read the printed words on the sheets.
“A solicitor of my standing,” Mr Collins chuckled under his breath.
“If you have to ask then I’m out of your price range. Please pay attention to the second page, Mrs Bradley, I would hate for there to be any future misunderstandings.”
I scowled at the first page, already dreading the second.
“It’s DuMont-Bradley, by the way.”
Collins, I was mentally dropping the title since his snarky comment on his fees, Collins chuckled again.
“Of course, but I’m sure you intend on omitting the Bradley once the divorce is finalized. Page three will deal with that issue, let me know when you’re finished.”
I scanned through the second page.
“A lot of these things were covered in the non-disclosure contract,” Frowning, I raised my head.
“Why do you need to go over this with me?”
“To make sure we’re all on the same page.” he replied.
Hadn’t he said that before?
Collins was freaking me out, and it was the last thing I needed at this juncture in my life.
“It’s all a big fallacy, you know,” I volunteered my recently gained wisdom to him in an attempt to dispel the awkwardness.
“Relationships.”
“They tend to be.” Collins agreed.
He must have the wisdom too.
“They never go the way they’re supposed to,” I continued.
“But who is to say exactly how a relationship is supposed to go? No one tells you anything useful. It’s a load of crock. Are you married?”
Collins tilted his head at me.
“I am.”
“Happy?” I pressed.
He just smiled.
“Iron clad pre-nup?” I checked.
His smile widened.
“Third marriage by now?” That was cheeky of me, but hey.
“Let’s focus on the preliminary groundwork to the dissolution of your marriage.” Collins shot back dryly.
Touché.
I finished my quick perusal and held out the pages to Collins.
“It’s fine, whatever.”
“Those are for your records,” He waved a hand through the air and leaned forward in the chair.
“So let’s have an informal chat,”
My eyebrows shot up.
“Informal?”
“Of course,” Collins attempted a friendly look, he didn’t quite pull it off.
“I would hate for you to feel as if this discussion is occurring under duress.”
“Duress?” I repeated.
The sarcasm was slight but present.
Collins nodded.
“You’re currently without counsel, Mrs Bradley,” His fake friendly look deepened.
“And the last thing my client wants is for there to be any unpleasantness during this process.”
I took a deep breath and said, “I’m not exactly sure why you’re here,”
Collins gestured to the papers he’d handed me not too long ago.
“To discuss-”
“But I’m a busy woman,” I deliberately glanced at the clock on the wall to bring my point home before continuing.
“And my husband should know by now that I won’t contest the divorce, I won’t speak about him to the press or anyone else for that matter and I won’t ask for any settlement.” The sound of heavy running outside my office made me pause.
The door being violently flung open made me rise halfway out the chair.
“Gloria, what on-”
“You need to come out front now. ” she gushed.
Gloria was stressed to the stage of bulging eyes coupled with complete frantic body jerks as she beckoned to me.
“Madi, hurry.”
Jumping to my feet with an apologetic grimace, I was too worried by Gloria’s behaviour to manage a proper smile; I regarded Collins.
“Can we do this another time? I’ll sort out legal representation and leave it up to you lawyers. Okay?”
Collins snuck a peek at his shiny watch.
Was that a Rolex?
Yes, it was.
How much was Matt paying this man?
The oil economy was really bad at the moment, I hoped Matt wasn’t over-stretching himself financially.
Not that I cared or anything.
“Madi,” Gloria practically wailed.
Then I heard Dante shouting over the sound of further heavy footfall.
“Hey! You can’t go back there.”
What the hell?
I turned towards the doorway only to catch sight of Gloria backing away and two strangers hustling their way into my office.
The fuck.
“Excuse me! Who the hell-”
“Madison DuMont?” the woman cut me off.
Damn, she looked fierce and not in a catwalk supermodel way.
The guy next to her wore the same hard expression.
Who were these people?
“Maybe. Who’s asking?” I shot back angrily.
No way was I confirming my name to these psychos.
My hand searched the mess which was my desk for the handset.
Fuck it, Liam must have moved the office phone again.
I quickly snatched my cell up.
“You need to get the hell off these premises before I call the police.”
“DCI Ramsbottom,” she replied while holding up a piece of paper with one hand and flashing me some form of supposed id with the other.
It was too fast for me to see.
“And this is DCI Sturridge. We have a warrant to search these premises.”
“I want to see that warrant again.” Dante yelled.
There were a number of things running through my head, all at the same time mind you, as I stared mouth gaping at the woman.
DCI?
Weren’t those coppers?
I was certain DCI was a police rank.
Why were there coppers at my business?
And why was Dante shouting about a warrant?
Why was she talking about a warrant and searching- Ha ha, Ramsbottom, funny name.
Yeah.
My thoughts were experiencing a cluster fuck at the moment, my inappropriate humour could attest to that.
The soft garbled sound coming from me was a determined yet failed effort on my part to say, “What is going on?”
Collins stood up, adjusted the lapels of his business suit, and without missing a beat claimed the space next to my side.
“Lawrence Collins,” he introduced himself to DCI Ramsbottom, didn’t offer a hand though, and his features were scarily impassive.
“May I see the issued warrant?” His lips stretched across his face as he added.
“Please.”
Collins had suddenly become a shark before my very eyes.
An impossible and ridiculous thing to think, but that was the only explanation supplied by my confused brain.
“Who are you?” DCI Sturridge asked, quite aggressively too.
Collins smirked.
Definitely an apex predator type of smirk.
“Lawrence Collins,” he enunciated each syllable.
“Family friend and solicitor.” He held his hand out to DCI Ramsbottom.
“Now I’ll have a look at that if you don’t mind.” He flashed me a fleeting smile.
“Seeing as I’m her legal representative at this point. Right?”
He nodded at me and I nodded back, slow and unsure.
The suspicious looks directed at me from DCI Ramsbottom and Sturridge made my throat close up some more.
Was it bad having a lawyer present when the police busted into your workplace?
Did this make me look guilty?
Guilty?
I hadn’t done anything.
I didn’t even know why they were here.
“Your family friend is your solicitor?” Sturridge questioned me in a deep voice.
I think he was going for a substantial tonal level of threat.
It worked.
I immediately wanted to explain Collins wasn’t a family friend…
well technically I was still a Bradley, so I guess in a way…
Oh shit.
Why were they looking at me in that way?
Why were they here?
Why was Collins here?
Today of all days he showed up unannounced?
And he’d made it clear to the police he was ‘my’ lawyer.
That was a lie.
Oh no.
Why were they staring at me?
“I’m not resisting.” My hands were up, reaching for either my head or the ceiling, the unconscious decision hadn’t been made yet.
Jesus help me.
I didn’t remember putting them up.
“I-I’m not- what’s going on? Someone please tell me what’s going on.”
“Madi,” Dante called from the doorway.
There were two more strangers coming up behind him.
Another male/female grouping.
And my usually unflappable Gloria was nowhere to be seen.
God.
I hoped she was ok.
“I need to get past you, mate.” The man tried to muscle past Dante, who in turn simply hurried over to where I stood.
He reached for one of my arms, the one nearest to him.
They were still hovering in the air.
Sheepishly I lowered them as I belatedly remembered the normal police weren’t armed in the UK.
“Why are you people here?” I asked again.
DCI Ramsbottom handed the warrant over to Collins while addressing me.
“We’re investigating a case of potential fraud and money laundering,” she stated with cool bluntness.
Before I could ask what the hell that had to do with me, she motioned to the other coppers and they began to fan out in my office.
“Your name has come up on multiple documentation tied in with our main suspect and this leads us to believe,” Her voice trailed off as my breath became loud and raspy.
I was also clutching my chest, a Victorian pre-swoon sort of clutch, very lame but quite apt for the moment.
“Leads us to believe that your company may be involved,” she continued as her colleagues headed for the filing cabinets, the paperwork on my messy desk, the unopened boxes in the far corner.
They began going through everything.
I turned with wild eyes to face Dante in my pre-swoon state and laboured breathing; he lost it then.
“This is bullshit!” He took a step forward.
Sturridge stiffened, moving his large frame surprisingly fast to stand in front Dante.
“Calm down.”
Forget the upcoming panic attack, I stretched out and grabbed the back of Dante’s t-shirt.
My fingers curled around the material and I yanked hard even as I hastily assured Sturridge.
“He’s cool, we’re not resisting.”
The raspy jaggedness of my voice didn’t help lessen the warning stare Sturridge levelled towards Dante.
I tugged some more on Dante’s top, mentally praying this was a bad dream.
“This seems to be in order,” Collins had been reading through the warrant.
He handed it back to DCI Ramsbottom.
It appeared she was the one in charge.
Collins’s demeanour remained relaxed, but underneath his smooth words and polished smile, a leashed energy simmered.
I could feel it, so could everyone else.
“Now it doesn’t explicitly state my client as a named suspect,” Collins continued, idly fiddling with his cufflinks as if he had no cares in the world.
“But her company is,” He stopped messing with his cufflinks and straightened up.
“And as she holds the major interest in this company, it’s logical to assume she’s a person of high interest.”
“She is,” DCI Ramsbottom confirmed.
I swayed at those words.
Fraud?
Money laundering?
Person of interest.
When would I wake up from this nightmare?
It made no sense.
“She’s pregnant,” Dante shouted out when he noticed my swaying.
“And suffers from panic attacks. You’re stressing her out. If anything happens to her, I’m lodging a complaint.”
There was a moment of silence.
I stared at Dante, incredulous over his outburst.
Did he just lose his damn mind?
Had I just witnessed him suffering a massive brain melt?
Could I deny it?
But then what would the police think of Dante?
Why the hell were they after me alone?
Dante had a stake in my company too!
How could he just blab my business out?
The fool.
My best friend was a total fool.
Collins turned his head square on to face me.
“You’re pregnant?”
Fuck me sideways.
This was bad, so bad I had no explanation for what happened next.
Maybe it was instinctive, wanting to protect myself from the unimaginable fallout or maybe it was the need for support.
Whatever it was, I did it without thinking.
Grabbing Dante’s hand, I nodded.
“Yes, we only found out five days ago.”
Oh shit.
It wasn’t a lie, just a tiny misdirection.
Collins stared at my fingers entwining themselves with Dante’s.
While Mr Blabbermouth himself stiffened up like a board.
“Congratulations to you both.” Collins said, gaze jumping from our clasped hands to our faces.
“Pardon?” Dante spluttered in confusion.
Collins mouth parted slightly, his eyes narrowed in pure suspicion.
Sharp eyes that searched the contours of my features intently.
My short fingernails were suddenly embedded so deeply into the fleshy palms of Dante’s hand it made him squeak.
Hopefully I had drawn blood and gotten my unspoken point across.
“Ah, yes,” Dante forced out.
“Thanks.”
“How far along are you?” Collins asked with a pleasantness that almost hid his professional concern.
Ensuring my fingernails were still painfully stabbing Dante’s palm, I gave Collins my brightest smile and said, “Early days, a little over four weeks.”
There.
It was done.
A lie had been committed.
A gigantic lie.
I dreaded to think of what karma would have in store for me.
Dante took an abrupt inhale of air and held his breath.
I dug my nails in some more.
Mr Blabbermouth better keep his mouth shut.
“Well, congratulations once again,” Collins nodded a few times, he looked relieved at my admission of timings.
It was obvious to me why.
Collins had Matt’s, his real client, best interests in mind.
A potential pregnant soon-to-be ex-wife would be costly if the baby was his.
Collins might have done a ‘hide your financial assets’ jig on Matt’s behalf if his relieved expression was anything to go on.
With him thinking Dante and I were expecting, well, it would make the smoothest divorce for Matt.
Wife knocked up by another man?
Any judge would sympathize with him.
Collins could probably see the drying ink on the divorce papers right this second.
That was fine by me for now.
“We here to do our jobs,” DCI Ramsbottom advised.
She seemed less antagonistic now.
Maybe she had a soft spot for knocked up criminals-
“Wait a minute,” I relinquished my death hold on Dante’s hand.
“I’m not a money launderer. You’ve made a mistake. We’re funded by the Arts Council and public sponsorship.”
“Let me handle this,” Collins was quick to interject.
“No,” I hushed him.
His presence made me look dodgy, made it look as if there was something to hide.
“This is all a mistake. I have an accountant who deals with these things. All of my company’s finances are legal-”
“We have documentation linking you to Geoffrey Kincaid,” DCI Ramsbottom stated.
I almost bit my freaking tongue before gasping out, “Geoffrey? What does he have to do with-” Then I stopped.
Ok, sometimes a girl could easily blag her way through a tough situation; lift the chin arrogantly with cool eyes while ejecting intelligent sounding shit from her lips.
This wasn’t one of those situation.
I turned to Matt’s lawyer, suddenly afraid but trying my best to hide it in front the detectives.
“Ah, Mr Collins,” I called to him in need, never mind I had shushed him only seconds ago, and he responded.
Whatever Matt paid him must be worth his skills.
My husband had a squeaky clean record, his brother did too.
I knew neither of them were angelic…
a good lawyer made you look angelic, kept you out of jail.
A great lawyer could make shit smell of roses.
Matt would never have a lawyer who wasn’t great.
“It’s fine.” He flashed me a wide reassuring smile before looking at DCI Ramsbottom.
“Are you intending on arresting my client?”
My heart dropped to the soles of my feet.
“At this point, no. We simply need to speak to her.” DCI Ramsbottom confirmed.
“Will she be interviewed under caution or will this be an informal interview?” asked Collins.
My heart rocketed back into my chest cavity where it danced to an unhealthy tempo.
Under caution?
Didn’t people always get arrested after being interviewed under caution?
I didn’t know the UK laws in depth.
Would they mind if I Googled it or should I just ask them?
They were the police after all.
“We just need to talk to you to clear up a few things. It’s best to get this done as soon as possible.” DCI Ramsbottom directed her answer to me.
Collins didn’t appreciate that.
He cleared his throat loudly, grabbing her attention and saying, “Let’s get one thing straight. She’s not being arrested, you’re not planning on interviewing her under caution,” He eyed DCI Ramsbottom.
“Don’t try and intimidate her.”
I chewed my lip.
Collins better know what he was doing.
“We’re not intimidating anybody.” DCI Sturridge countered.
Collins tilted his head at the other two officers meticulously going through the filing cabinets, the derisive curl of lip from him spoke volumes.
“Let’s get this resolved as quickly as possible,” he demanded with a blatant chiding only ridiculously overpaid lawyers could pull off when dealing with the police.
“My client has a busy day ahead.”
I was thankful no one had Government issued guns while shitting a brick over the whole situation.
Why were they interested in my connection with Geoffrey?
What had he done?
The detectives were talking about money laundering and fraud.
Those were serious white-collar crimes.
Geoffrey Kincaid was one of the sweetest men I knew.
He would never-
“I’ve known Geoffrey since I was eighteen. He’s one of the kindest-”