Page 23 of My Bossy Billionaire Attorney

Nobody, that’s who.

“Alright,” I say gently. “I’ll come with you. But can I go with the plainclothes officers? I don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.”

She turns to the others and gives them a nod.

“Fine. I’ll see you at the station. They’ll take your car. But if you decide you don’t want to cooperate, you could spend the night at the station.”

I nod, my heart pounding with all the possibilities of why I am being escorted to the police station.

“Can you tell me what this is about?” I ask as I follow the other two officers outside.

“Maybe a hint?” I add. “I’m not sure what you think I did to get myself into a pickle like this. I’m sure you can at least tell me something since I’m cooperating?”

Nothing. Not a peep or a squeak from them. I hand over my keys to one man and get into the backseat with the other.

On the ride to the station, I think about who to call if I’m asked to contact a lawyer. And no one comes to mind.

***

“Killed?” I ask, flabbergasted. “Brandon Portman is dead?”

The female detective, whose name I now know is Elaine Rogers, nods.

“Yes. We found his body at his house not long after eyewitnesses saw you two together. We think you were the last person to see him alive.”

Shit. Shit. Shit

I rub my face. I shouldn’t have met Brandon at the restaurant. I wasn’t going to, but he…fuck.Why? I wouldn’t have gotten into this mess if I had given the damn ring to his lawyer when he asked.

“Okay,” I say, trying to sound calm. “I met him at a restaurant, and he went back to his apartment. Doesn’t that imply that there was enough time for him to meet with someone else? Maybe the person who killed him? Because I’m certain it’s not me.”

“You had a ring that you returned to him. The ring was found on him,” she says.

“What?” I ask, getting close to having a heart attack. “I—how do you know that I gave him the ring?”

“Eyewitnesses. We interviewed some of the people who were at the restaurant, and they heard you arguing about the ring. Some of them even said you threatened him.”

“That you threatened to carry out your revenge on him for cheating on you.”

I throw my hands in the air.

“I was angry, nothing else. He cheated on me, and he wanted the ring back. I—"

You’re a paralegal, Savannah! Even if you’re not a lawyer, you know about incriminating evidence! Words used out of context.

I clam up.

“Am I under arrest?”

“No.”

“Good,” I smile. “All you have is a few people who repeated what they heard, words said in anger and a ring that I gave him in public. Even if it has my DNA, it only shows I wore it.”

“The next time you come for me, make sure you have more concrete evidence because right now you have nothing.”

Elaine stands up when I do.

“I don’t think you want to do this.”

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