Maybe.
“Yes,” I answer, finally. “I have my phone. Always.”
“Good.” She flips her long, brown locks over her shoulder and circles us to take the lead. “The sooner we start, the sooner we can be done. Mr. Alexander, shall we begin?”
“Of course.” He fixes his glasses again and almost has to run to keep up with her long, ballerina legs. “I’m prepared.”
“Detective Fletcher?” Balladae bars the door and looks us all over. “Two lawyers and the mayor of Copeland City? Seems unnecessary, don’t you think? Considering the mayor, too, was once a practicing lawyer.”
“I’m not coming in.” Lawrence stops on my right and folds his arms. A metaphor, I suppose, that says he’s not touching this. “And I do not represent Detective Fletcher.”
“Two, then?” Balladae looks Sophia up and down, pleased with what he sees, as a sly smile crosses his lips. “I feel as though I’ve met most of the lawyers in Copeland City, considering my line of work. I would remember your face, miss…”
“Mrs.” She shakes his hand and cuts him down with a single word. “Asa. Let’s start, so Detective Fletcher can return to Ms. Watson as soon as possible.” She releases his hand and stalks past the guy, unafraid and completely in control of the situation. Like always. “I wish to present to you an irrefutable alibi that will clear my client of any wrongdoing in regard to Ms. Watson’s attack. And, because I’m feeling generous, I’llalsoprovide you proof that Booth did this to her.” She ignores Elen completely and takes a seat at the table while the rest of us file in. “And in return for my good deeds, you’ll provide us with an update on your investigation.”
“Ms. Asa?—”
“You can call me Sophia.” She drags her bag over her head and places it in her lap, only to free a laptop from inside and set it on the table. “I allow such friendlinessonlybecause I’ve done my homework and have come to the conclusion that you’re decent cops. Not great,” she amends when Balladae preens under her odd praise, “but worthy of keeping your jobs. I can commend your bravery for asking the tough questions, while simultaneously being displeased that your sights are currently set onmyclient.”
“You have proof?” Elen comes around the table and sits across from Soph. “Proof of Mr. Fletcher’s innocence that is admissible in court?” He pushes his chair in and places his hands on the table. “How?”
“My company—one of a few—is currently performing trials that revolve around stress levels, emotional and mental health, and overall physical health of our current first responders.”
Lie, lie, lie, lie.
“I have paramedics within my study group. Firefighters, police, and military, amongst many more. I even have a fourth-grade teacher,” she adds with a smirk. “Since that, too, is almost like going to war every day. Detective Fletcher agreed, months ago, to wear our monitors daily outside of work and during work hours when privacy laws allowed it. That means our systems know precisely where Detective Fletcher was at the time of Ms. Watson’s attack, but wealsohave an overall health analysis to call upon. Heart rate, for example, would be a valuable insight. Since even the most violent offender would have a racing heart when attacking someone. We have state-of-the-art transmitters that will lay out Detective Fletcher’s brain activity before, during, and after the time of Ms. Watson’s attack. And we have other, more detailed and scientific methods to call upon and present in court, should you be stupid enough to arrest him for this crime.”
Confused… or perhaps doubtful, Balladae and Elen glance toward each other and have a conversation without speaking words out loud.
Archer and I can do that too, I realize. We do it often when a suspect has stumped us, and we can’t say so out loud.
Finally, they bring their attention back to Soph.
Poor, poor Egbert. He needn’t have clocked in today.
“The fact you’re representing Detective Fletcher today, and also own this other tracking company, makes for a conflict of interest, don’t you think?” Elen steeples his fingers. “Who’s to say you didn’t alter the data you’re attempting to present to us?”
“My data will stand up to testing. You choose the operator. Additionally, I never specified Charlie Fletcher was mylegalclient. I never told you I was his lawyer. The fact you didn’t seek clarification before allowing me to enter this room is on you, Detectives.” She reaches into her bag and brandishes a tiny thumb drive, which she places on the table and slides towardBalladae. “The data is backed up on my server, and those servers can be submitted for testing upon a valid warrant, signed by a judge, landing on my desk. However, I encourage you to spend your time and resources on more fruitful lines of investigation.” Mimicking Elen’s pose, she steeples her fingers and tilts her head to the side. “I’m pleased to inform you I have seen the footage that contains Ms. Watson’s attack last night. This would have been on your to-do list, I’m sure, and awaiting a judge’s signature. But I have ways of viewing such things in an expedited manner.”
“How?” Balladae demands. “How could you have possibly seen this footage?”
“Mr. Booth was forced to move residences after his last was collateral in an unfortunate explosion. I’m sure you know this already. And if you don’t, you would have stumbled upon it during the course of your investigation. Booth now resides, primarily, in a home on Baha Street, West Copeland City. Fortunately for us, this new residence just so happens to be near a corner bodega, and considering the owner of the bodega has a brain in his head, the moment he was made aware of his new neighbors, he had a specialist security company come out to install a system that would keep him and his business safe. That security setup caught Jada’s attack in high definition because that’s where it began. Outside, on the sidewalk. The footage shows, clearly, Nathan Booth grabbing Jada Watson by her hair at nineteen-forty-nine last night, following a loud verbal disagreement between the two. The audio is also available for tendering to the courts. Nathan slammed her to the sidewalk a moment later, kicking her in the ribs multiple times, before he picked her up again, by the hair,” she adds, so fucking casually, despite the nausea that rolls through my stomach.
Despite the ache I feel as I picture this scene, shot by shot, in my mind.
“And before she was securely on her feet, he dragged her into the house and sent his guests racing out. This leads me to believe he wanted to do whatever it was he intended to do to Ms. Watson in relative privacy. If we go back through the footage, we can count and account for every one of his guests that day. By my fast estimation, there only remained four people inside that home when Jada was hauled in. Nathan Booth and Jada, obviously, are two, plus two of his known associates: Lorenzo Lombardo and Ryker Stenson. Pull Stenson or Lombardo in for questioning, present to them the footage you’ll receive by close of business today via an anonymous source, since a warrant will take longer to secure, and they’ll fold under the pressure of what they’re seeing.”
She leaves the thumb drive on the table and stands, quick as a whip. “I’d say that concludes this meeting. You needn’t question Detective Fletcher, because you have proof he was nowhere near your victim at the time of her assault, in addition to proof of whowaswith her. Fletch.” She lifts her chin, so I rise from my seat. “Mr. Alexander. That about does us, I think.”
“Wait.” Balladae snags Soph’s wrist, drawing her ire and a pair of fiery eyes before he releases her again. “You’re a company owner who specializes in, what? Health and wellbeing? Yet you come in here, take the lead, present to us proof of a crime, have access to footage you shouldn’t have, and just so happen to have an airtight alibi for Detective Fletcher…? You’d have us believe all that?”
“Mmhm.” She slips her bag over her shoulder and slides the laptop back inside. “I don’t particularly care what you think or believe of me, Detectives. All that matters is you do your job and see the evidence as it’s presented. You can collect all data from the source, so you’re confident nothing has been altered by me, and then you can subject that data to any testing you deem appropriate. Consider me your evidence fairy on this case.” Shesmiles and steps around her chair. “Then don’t consider me at all. I doubt we’ll run into each other again. Let’s go.” She stalks toward the door and nods her approval when I follow. Egbert is slower, in a state of shock, I think, but he scrambles and jumps up from his chair.
But before he can catch up, I do as Balladae did and grab Sophia’s wrist. I pull her into the hall and just far enough away not to be heard. “A health and wellbeing tracker? Really? You gonna create the data purely to appease the courts?”
“I’m tracking your phone,” she rolls her eyes, twisting her wrist and freeing herself from my grip. “And your watch. And I have ears in your apartment. I know you didn’t hurt her, and the footage from the bodega is legit. The heart rate stuff is mere semantics from this point forward.” She turns to Egbert when he follows and smiles, so wide one could almost believe she’s not some evil warlord set to rule the world. “So sorry for taking over, Mr. Alexander. It wasn’t my intention. It became obvious to me from the onset that the detectives wouldn’t move on from our client until they had satisfied their legal obligations, so to expedite the process, I provided them with the information they needed.”
“No need for apologies, Ms. Asa.” He fixes his glasses, pushing them along the bridge of his nose, and grins. “That was the easiest case I’ve ever run. You make my job exponentially simpler, and having the mayor on my shoulder for this one…”