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“Great. That should be interesting,” he says, throwing his head back against the headrest as I start the car and put it in gear. “Maybe we can talk about the affair he had with my mom.”
“Oh, knock it off!” I drop the clutch and punch it, jamming through the first three gears. “Holy crap this thing is still fast! Sorry for messing up your perfect hair.” I giggle.
By the time we reach Dad’s place, Trey seems happy to get out of the car. My phone is ringing in my purse, so I pull it out and roll my eyes. “It’s Harris again.”
“Just tell him you quit,” Trey says nonchalantly. “You don’t need that job anymore.”
“Hello, Mr. Sherman,” I answer while shaking my head at Trey and giving him a look of disapproval.
“I need an update on the Addison case,” he says avoiding any pleasantries. “Where are you at on that?”
“Well, sir…” I pause momentarily, trying to recall what I had told him in our last conversation. “I don’t have anything new to report on that since the last time we talked. I didn’t witness anything out of the ordinary on the Geneva trip, but it was cut short due to Victor’s death.”
“So we are dead in the water?” he grumbles, obviously shuffling through a stack of papers on his desk.
“I’m sorry, sir, but yes. I believe there is nothing to pursue for the moment.”
“Oh, with him being an Addison you bet your life there is something to pursue,” he declares. “We just don’t see it at the moment. Will you be in on Monday?”
“No, I won’t. My mom died this morning and we are having her service over the weekend,” I explain to him, choking up a bit. “I stopped out here to spend some time with her because she has been so sick.”
“Well, I heard you were in Monaco,” he sneers. Apparently he does read the online tabloids after all.
“I was there briefly, sir. That trip was also cut short.” I pause, not giving any further explanation.
“Yes, I read it was cut short due to an apparent overdose by the other Addison boy,” he says with a certain cockiness coming through. “Now they are thinking he may have been poisoned and that his brother may have staged it.”
“Trey had nothing to do with it,” I immediately fire back at him. “That I can tell you with one hundred percent confidence!”
“You seem to have gotten pretty damn cozy with this Trey. Did you have an ulterior motive going into this case? Looking back, you did seem awfully goddamn motivated to be assigned to it,” he replies with a suspicious tone in his voice.
“I’ll explain everything when I sit down with you in person, sir. Let’s just say that my dad and Victor had a falling out very similar to the one you had with him.” Trey is now standing right next to me trying to monitor every word of our conversation.
“That better happen soon, Amanda. I like you, but I won’t stand for any monkey business in the field,” he says with steely harshness in his tone. “If I feel you are involved in a cover up of some kind, I will make damn sure you are prosecuted and disbarred.”
His words make me feel as if the life force was just drained from my body. “Yes, sir. I understand. I will explain everything once I’m back in the office. It will all make sense to you.”
“For your sake, I hope it does,” he replies. “By the way, I’m sorry to hear of your mother’s passing. You and your father have my sincerest regards.”
“Thank you, sir. I’ll be in the office next Wednesday or Thursday,” I reply trying to hold it together. “I’ll let you know once I get a flight booked.”
“You do that. Take care.” The phone goes dead and once again I am left with a stomachache and a feeling of dread concerning my future. What have I done? I look at Trey who is standing there with a smug look on his face.
“I know he’s going to fire me.” My mind begins racing, wondering if there is any evidence of a cover up. “Son of a bitch. What if he finds out?”
“Finds out what?” Trey counters, sounding instantly irritated. “I’m the only one who knows you saw the research report. Jake wasn’t there and Liv was totally fucking passed out. Remember?” He stares intensely at me with those dark brown eyes of his.
“I know,” I gasp, throwing my head back and looking up at the sky. “I just know what a bulldog Harris is and he definitely has some suspicions.”
“But he has no proof! I have the only copy of the flight recording and I’m certainly not going to incriminate myself.” He slaps his hand on the fender of the car. “There is no other proof!” He stops and continues staring intently at me.
