Submitting to My Best Friend's Dad by Scarlett Rossi
Chapter 563 -

*Tallon*

This wasn't the first time that I had been arrested, or even the first time I had been booked, but it was the first time I wasn't confident that I would be out by morning. Whoever was behind this setup was thorough. There was no doubt in my mind that there was evidence in the warehouse that I hadn't seen before I attempted to make my escape. The police let me sit in the stress of the situation for what felt like hours before finally getting me booked into my cell. From there, they quickly escorted me to an interrogation room.

It was pointless for them to try to question me. This wasn't my first time dealing with the law, and I knew better than to talk to the police without my lawyer by my side.

I looked down at the ink staining my fingertips as the detective across the table spoke. I was barely paying attention as he introduced himself to me. I could tell by the tone of his voice that he was going to try to play good cop. It wasn't going to do him any good.

"I've got nothing to say to you," I said simply. "I won't speak without a lawyer present."

"If you're innocent, why do you need a lawyer?" he asked in a curious tone.

"I need my lawyer because I'm innocent and you goons have never let that stop you from locking someone up," I snapped. I cursed myself internally and bit the inside of my cheek. I couldn't let them goad me into talking. They could twist every word I said and use it against me.

The detective held his hands up in a placating gesture.

"I won't lie," he lied. "Some officers do shady things like that, but I'm not one of them. I'm only interested in replaceing the truth about what happened to that John Doe. Do you know who he is? His name?"

I leaned back in the chair and stared at the wall behind him. I was determined not to speak again, no matter how much he pissed me off.

"This looks really bad. You understand that, don't you?"

There was a long silence.

"Of course you do," he continued. "You're a smart man. We found you with a dead body and the murder weapon. You have to understand what that looks like."

I sneered. They hadn't even swabbed my hands or clothes to check for gunshot residue. It was obvious they were looking to hang me out to dry, not exonerate me. They didn't care about the truth. They cared about getting this case off their books.

I didn't say anything, and after a few beats of silence he nodded to himself. "Yeah, you're smart. Smart enough to take precautions. He sat back in his chair and looked at me critically. "You know, we found a plastic poncho and gloves in a trash can not far from the body."

I laughed, but I stopped myself quickly. If this guy thought we were wearing ponchos to carry out hits, he was watching too many movies.

"A man is dead," he said in exaggerated shock. "What is there to laugh about?"

"You're wasting your breath," I told him.

He could ask questions until he was blue in the face. I wasn't answering him.

Several minutes passed while we both sat in awkward silence and stared at one another. Eventually he sighed and leaned back in his chair. He looked at the clock and stood with a groan. "Are you a smoker?" he asked. I shook my head no. It would take a lot more than offering me a cigarette to get me to drop my guard.

"Coffee drinker?"

I shook my head again. "I don't need anything until my lawyer gets here," I said.

"He's on his way," the detective said in irritation.

I smiled as he cursed under his breath. He hadn't meant to tell me that. If I didn't know how long I had to wait, he had a better chance of wearing me down. Now, I knew for certain that help was on the way. "She," I corrected.

"I need a cigarette," he muttered. "I'll send my partner in to keep you company."

Ah, he must be sending in the bad cop, I thought.

He walked out without another word, and a second later the door opened, and a large, sharp eyed man walked in. He had a stack of papers in one hand and a paper coffee cup in the other. He sat across from me and glared directly into my

eyes.

I stared back and waited for him to speak. After a moment, he tossed a stack of papers onto the table. I didn't look at them. I knew what they would be crime scene photos. He wanted to gauge my reaction to seeing them unexpectedly. I didn't take my eyes off him.

Before he could try whatever other cards he had up his sleeves, the door opened.

I glanced over my shoulder and relief flooded through me at the sight of my lawyer. The detective glared at her, but he got to his feet and held his hand out.

She shook his hand firmly. "Detective," she said by way of greeting. "I'm going to need a few minutes with my client, and I'm going to need that time somewhere that isn't being recorded either through video or audio surveillance." She looked pointedly at the small surveillance camera in the corner of the room.

I grinned. The detective's face went a little red as he dropped his hand and glared at her. "You can talk in here," he said.

"With all due respect," she said, "that's not going to work for me."

There was a tense silence as she stared the much larger man down. I sat back comfortably and waited for him to make a decision.

"I'll shut the camera off," he said.

"And the audio recording device," she reminded him with a smile.

He nodded, then left the room with a grumble.

"Hello Mrs. Morton," I said once we were alone. "I apologize for waking you at such an ungodly hour."

"These things can never happen in the midafternoon, can they?" she joked. She sat across from me and folded her hands in her lap.

We sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes until the red light on the camera turned off. We waited a few more seconds before she spoke.

"Walk me through it," she said.

"I got a text that appeared to come from Vinny, but it wasn't from him," I started. "The text instructed me to go to one of our warehouses immediately. We've been having some issues related to our business, and I've been on alert in case of an emergency. Despite the hour and how vague the message was, I rushed out to meet him."

She nodded thoughtfully at my words. "So, you were lured out under false pretenses," she said. "What happened when you got to the warehouse?"

"I was confused," I said. "There were no cars and no lights on. It appeared that no one was there."

"Suspicious, but you went in?"

"Yes. I figured since I was there anyway, I should go inside and see if there was a note or something like that to fill me in on what the hell was going on."

I sighed. It was a stupid move and I regretted it, but there was nothing I could do about that now.

"What did you replace inside?"

"A body," I said with a grimace. "He was in the middle of the room. I didn't see any blood, so I went to check. He was dead. There was a gun lying near him. I was in shock. Before I could react, Vinny called me. I asked him what the hell was going on and he said that he hadn't sent the text and had no idea what was going on."

She frowned deeply at that. "Then?"

"I started heading toward the door. I was trying to decide what to do, and I wanted to get away from the body. Before I reached the door, the police burst in with guns drawn and placed me under arrest."

Her eyebrows shot up at that. "They entered with guns drawn?"

I nodded firmly. "Drawn and pointed directly at me. I don't know who called them."

"Well, I'm going to be tracking down that 911 call," she muttered. "Is there surveillance in the warehouse that would show your movements?"

I ran through the events in my mind quickly. I didn't recall doing anything questionable in the short time that I was there. I nodded. "Vinny can get you the footage." "Is there anything else I should know?"

I nodded. "The man had a tattoo that I noticed. He's affiliated with the Russians."

She inhaled sharply and cursed. "Well, that complicates this significantly. It doesn't look good, Tallon."

"That's why we called you," I said.

"I'm good, but I'm not a miracle worker. You keep your mouth shut and let me do my digging. This is going to take time. If we take one wrong step, they'll throw the book at you."

"I know," I said. "The detective indicated that there was some other evidence recovered from the scene, but I don't have details."

She nodded. "I'll do what I can to fast track the bond hearing and get you out of here," she promised. "The rest is going to depend on what they replace."

"I know," I said with a sigh.

"Do you have any idea who could be trying to set you up?"

I shook my head. "We don't have any tense business relations right now," I explained. "I have no idea why someone would have done this."

"Any other odd occurrences lately, around your house or vehicles?"

I shook my head. "Nothing."

She nodded. "Well, I assume you didn't talk to the detectives."

"No," I said. "Which really pissed them off."

"No one should ever talk to the cops," she said emphatically, "especially not when they're innocent."

I had to smile. That attitude was exactly why I'd hired her. There were a lot of good defense attorneys out there, but I had never met one with such a deep distrust of the police. I'd never asked, but I was sure she'd seen some underhanded cops pulling truly shady stunts in the attempt to get a conviction.

"I'm aware," I said wryly. "They'll hang me with any inch of rope I give them."

"Grim," she said in an unamused tone. "I hope you recognize exactly how serious this is. It's going to be an uphill battle and at this juncture, I'm not confident I can get you off unscathed."

I looked down at the ink on my hands and thought about her words. She was right. This was really bad. My normal defenses weren't going to cut it, and it was going to take a lot to convince a judge and jury that I was innocent.

My only alibi was that I was at home with my wife. No one would accept that as a trustworthy alibi. Natalia would vouch for me, but anyone would be justified in believing that she was lying to protect me.

I really could go to prison for this, I thought.