Page 19 of Dissension

This is pushing the envelope. Her client has been dismissed.

Kara stands up and slaps her hand over the face that stares up at them. “What is the relevance to your case with Paxton Brooker and my client financing him?”

Ray seems surprised by her sharp interruption. “This man is a known trafficker who may or may not be involved with the torture ring that operated in the warehouse. He’s a dangerous man with a reputation that has followed him from the darkest prisons of South America.”

How dare Ray blindside her like this? Trying to pin trafficking on her client now? Trying to tie him to criminals?

This hardens her resolve. “You brought my client in here to discuss the matter of if he knew what Paxton Brooker was doing with the warehouse when he funded it. My client answered already. We will not be answering questions aboutactually runningthe torture ring!”

On the table, a swarthy man stares up from the photo, multiple tattoos crawling up his neck, tattoos on fingers that Kara is certain she’s seen holding a cigarette. Dieter may have never seen him before, but Karahas.

She’s certain of it.

Outside her window at night.

Chapter 10

Being on the defense feels strange, as if Kara’s guilty of something. Instead of feeling like she’s fighting for a just cause, it feels like she’s the bad guy in the story.

Outside, the media is waiting with incessant flashes of cameras, near blinding Kara. Dieter just grins beatifically into the chaos. Picture perfect, always has his PR face in place. The questions are shouted as the swarm eagerly presses forward. Kara would love to know how the bloodsuckers even found out he was here!

“Mr. Bittinger, can you comment on why local authorities have brought you in for questioning?”

“Does this have to do with the continued investigations surrounding Paxton Brooker’sDark Miragefetish sex club? How are you involved? You’re his financier in multiple engagements. Surely you must know-”

“Mr. Bittinger, are you being investigated? Can you comment on if you knew how Paxton Brooker’s southend warehouse was going to be used for heinous crimes-”

Stepping into the mess, Kara scowls into their cameras and grabs the nearest microphone. “As I’m sure you’re all aware, Paxton Brooker is innocent until proven guilty in the court of law. Yes, properties that he owns are being investigated for hideous, outrageous crimes, but the DA and police have yet to take him to court on this matter. Alleged crimes must beproven. As for my client, today was a voluntary interview, in which Mr. Bittinger already answered to the authorities.”

Dieter exhales softly behind her, his presence a weight in her mind. The back of his hand briefly brushes against hers, amomentary contact that makes her mind spin. His presence is always impossible to ignore.

Where Nick made his dark interest known bluntly, Dieter is different. Like a cat, trying to find ways around boredom. Kara is just another means to an end and the idea of it makes her cringe. She doesn’t want to be another temporary toy.

Her relationship with Nick cut too deep and she wonders if those wounds are going to heal soon or not.

The milling crowd of journalists pauses for only a minute to digest her statement. Then, they swarm again like a hive of bees, asking even more questions about the sensationalalleged crimesof Paxton Brooker and his close ties to Dieter Bittinger.

Kara pushes her way through the crowd with Dieter, saying in her most crotchety of tones, “My client isn’t answering any more questions. His involvement begins and ends with lending Paxton Brooker money. Thank you, that’s all. THAT’S ALL.” God, she must look like an absolute stoney bitch on camera.

Dieter’s driver pulls up to the curb, perfect timing. Dieter gives her a questioning glance. Kara shakes her head, wordlessly letting him know she has other engagements than to be driven around with him this afternoon. Knowing him, it would turn into a long lunch. And then afternoon coffee. And then him wanting to do work from her couch while he waits for the traffic out of the city to die down, his driver loiteringsomewhere.

You have an office for this, she’s told him in the past.

She does not need more distractions from him. She doesn’t need him to keep trying to weasel his way closer than he already has. He’s alreadytoo close. She feels him worming his way into her blood like some sort of virus.

“Suit yourself, chickadee,” he drawls as he slips away with a lingering glance at her, slinking like an arrogant cat past the salivating piranhas and their microphones and flashing cameras.

As Dieter gets into his car, it pulls away from the curb. Kara finds herself standing alone on the corner as the press mercifully disperses.

She’s alone, at least until a familiar man walks out of the front of the precinct. Detective Ray Wellis and his cheap aftershave soon fills her senses. “Say it,” she tells him tiredly, seeing the disappointment in his dark eyes as he stands beside her. “Just rip the band-aid off already. I’m a big girl.”

He shrugs his shoulders, hands deep in his pockets. “I just have a hard time believing it. You’ve really joined his gaggle of lawyers. Bittinger. The big-time financier with a sterling smile and averybad reputation.”

“He pays my bills.” That’s a terrible defense by any standard. It rings hollow, even if it’s true.

A swift frown shapes his jawline, his five o’clock shadow already in the works. “Derrick Benson’s firm also pays your bills. You choose to work with this man.”

Oh please. Dieter practicallyfoundways of getting her involved in his dealings. Gale Clarke, his longtime senior legal representative, had even tried to shield Kara from his account. “Please. People like me don’t choose to work with people like Dieter,” Kara replies with a scoff. “The ‘choosing’ comes from one side only and I can assure you, it isn’t mine.”

---