Page 118 of Famous Last Words
I follow and pull up a chair, watching as Tyler inspects the set-up, clicking a few buttons before typing somethingusing the keyboard.
“Do you think you can manage it?” I ask, looking from Tyler to the computer screen and back again.
He flashes me a cocky grin, clicking something with the mouse. “It’s already done.”
With a gasp, I look at the screen to see a black and white image of the bar appear, complete with yesterday’s date stamp.
“What time did it happen?” Tyler asks, scrolling.
I puff air from my cheeks, thinking back to last night. The last twenty-four hours is one big blur of pixelated events, so it’s difficult to pinpoint. “God, I don’t know. Sometime between ten and eleven, maybe. Definitely before midnight.”
Tyler nods, carefully studying the screen as he continues scrolling and, lo and behold, timestamped at 22:36, we find exactly what I was hoping we would.
In full view of the camera, in black and fucking white, I see Robbie sipping his drink while Tadd speaks to him. And then, I assume the moment I’m grabbed by Tadd’s grimy friend, Robbie disappears out of frame. Tadd remains by the bar, taking a quick look over his shoulder before pulling a small bag from the inside breast pocket of his suit jacket. He opens the bag and tips some of its contents into Robbie’s glass of Coke before dipping his finger into the white powder and rubbing it over his gums. But then, just when it looks like he’s about to put the bag back into his pocket, Tadd smirks deviously to himself, glancing around one more time before quickly stuffing the remaining drugs into Robbie’s coat that’s hung over the back of one of the barstools.
Literally eight seconds. That’s all it takes. Eight seconds for Tadd Jennings to attempt to destroy an innocent man’s life. I feel physically sick.
Tyler rewinds the footage, watching it three more times before finally sagging back in his chair and exhaling heavily. “Fuck.”
My hands are shaking.I can feel every beat of my heart, hear it in my ears.
“Can you copy it?” I ask, looking hopefully at Tyler. “Download it onto my phone?”
He clicks a few buttons and takes my phone, working his magic, and a few minutes later he hands the device back to me with a smug grin. “Done.”
I stare down at my phone, realizing that not only do I have enough evidence to clear Robbie’s name, but with this footage, I can finally take down Tadd Jennings.
Robbie holds my hand tightly as we brave the sea of reporters and photographers huddled on the Madison Avenue sidewalk outside the building that houses the HMC Management office.
Blinding flashes go off in our faces, questions being shouted, and I hold onto Robbie just as tightly as he holds onto me, leading the way through the throng, head down, ignoring the onslaught as best as he can.
We head straight up to the twenty-second floor where we meet Andy. He doesn’t say much, just ushers us into a sleek boardroom with glass walls that frost at the touch of a button, separating it from the office floor.
“Okay, what’s with all the cloak and dagger shit. I am sufficiently intrigued.” Andy quirks a brow as he takes a sip from his coffee, looking from Robbie to me and back again.
“You know how I’ve been trying to profess my innocence despite no one bothering to hear me out?”
Andy sighs. “Robbie, you tested positive?—”
“Yes, but he’s still innocent!” I interrupt, holding up my phone like it’s the Holy Grail; in this instance, it kind of is.
Andy looks from me to Robbie, brow furrowed.
I smile smugly, moving to the projector connection at the end of the long table. “You’re gonna wanna take a seat for this.”
Andy mutters somethingunder his breath but does as he’s told, taking a chair on the opposite side of the table.
Pressing the button on the control panel to draw the shades on the windows, I figure out the projection and scroll to the saved video in my phone. I glance at Robbie and he nods, and I press play, the screen coming to life with the security footage from The Exchange.
The silent video loops a few times, and from the corner of my eye, I watch as a myriad of conflicting emotions cross Andy’s face. Confusion. Shock. Disappointment. Anger. So much anger. And finally, guilt, his lips falling into a frown as his eyes flit to Robbie, the weight of the realization that he doubted not only his client but one of his closest friends seemingly sinking in.
I pause the video and turn to both Robbie and Andy.
“We need to send this to Raymond immediately,” Andy says, taking out his phone and scrolling through it, I assume for the lawyer’s number.
Robbie nods, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth.
“I’m so sorry, Robbie,” Andy murmurs after a moment, his voice uncharacteristically tight. He’s clearly taken aback with emotion.
