Mirage - Alice Tribue Page 0,61
to keep my voice level, trying to appear unaffected even though I’m dying inside. Even though, as we speak, men are tearing my apartment apart, even though the one thing that could send me to prison for a long fucking time is sitting in a safe in my office.
“All right, well.” He looks through the file once more and produces a picture. “What about this lady here, you ever met her?”
The woman in the picture used to work for me. She was one of my girls, a girl who I fired after she started abusing drugs and refused to go to rehab. Fucking bitch went to the cops on me.
“No, I’ve never met her before.”
“Are you sure? Her name is Kimberly Lewis.”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“Okay, well, I think you do know her. I think that she is one of the girls who you’ve employed as a prostitute. I think you severely pissed her off, and now she’s implicated you in this. So, I think we both know that you are very familiar with this girl.”
“No. I don’t know her.”
“You don’t know her.”
“No.”
“So if I tell you that I have photographic evidence. Pictures of the two of you together, what would you say?”
I’d say you’re full of shit; I’d say that I rarely meet with any of my girls outside of the office, and I am damn sure I never met her anywhere other than the privacy of my office.
“I’d say you must be mistaken.”
“You need to tell me the truth, Miss Powell.”
“There’s nothing to tell. I own a day spa.”
He takes a moment. I can see the frustration on his face; I’m hiding mine better than he hides his, but inside, I’m shriveling up. Inside, all I can see is that fucking safe. He lets out an audible sigh and shakes his head at me.
“Victoria, I don’t believe you. I wish I did.”
“I don’t know what to tell you.”
He reaches into the pocket of his jacket, pulls out a piece of paper, and sets it on the table.
“This is a search warrant, Victoria. As you know, we’re reaching your home, but we’re also searching a vehicle registered in your name, your main office, and your spa along with any and all computers.”
I stare at him again motionless. “I’m sorry you’re going through all of this trouble. You aren’t going to find anything.”
“If what you say is true, we’ll carry out our search, all will be good, and you’ll be out of here in no time. We’ll have to keep you here in the meantime.”
“If that’s the case, I’d like to contact my lawyer.”
“Does this mean you’re done talking to me, Miss Powell?”
“I’m pretty sure I’ve told you everything I know.”
“Which is nothing?”
“Exactly.”
“I’ll have someone bring you a phone,” he says before exiting the room. Even then, I show no emotion. I sit there staring blankly ahead because I know that someone is watching me from the other side of the mirror. I think of Nathan, of what he would think if he could see me know. Of what he’ll say when they find the evidence in my safe, book me, and put me away for years. Stupid Karma, I really hate that bitch.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
My utterly useless lawyer did nothing to get me out of here; he said there was too much red tape and it took him hours to do anything at all. To make matters worse, I told him to contact Ivy to let her know what was going on, and Ivy called my father. Yes… my father. What are we, in high school? If my life wasn’t fucked up enough, now my father is aware of exactly why I’m here. I’m just thankful that the press hasn’t been notified, which is a small miracle.
The door to the room opens and both Detective Burke and my lawyer walk through.
“You’re free to go, Miss Powell,” he says softly. “We’ll need to ask you not to leave town in case we have any other questions.”
I stare at them for a moment before grabbing my purse. I’m unsure what the fuck is happening. How can they possibly be letting me go? Is it possible that they didn’t find the jump drive in my safe? I assumed I’d be heading to an arraignment at some point. I decide not to sit around waiting to figure it out. I get up and out of there as quickly as I can. I almost wish I could go back in the room when I run right into