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“They say they have evidence.” It was the only defense she had, and she needed to stick with it. If he was genuinely innocent—and that was a bigif—the truth would, as the saying went, set him free.
Hill and Tanaka chose that moment to enter. They both had file folders tucked under their arms. Emma wondered how much of the paper in those folders was bogus. Some of it would undoubtedly be legit, but the vast majority, she guessed, would be for show, something meant to be intimidating. She’d seen the ploy used many times.
“Mr. Whitlow,” Tanaka said to Noah before turning to Emma and adding, “Counselor.”
Emma nodded. “Before we start, I just want to let you know that I’ve instructed my client not to answer any of your questions.”
“So noted,” said Tanaka.
Hill hung back in the corner of the room, arms crossed, one leg bent, her foot flat against the wall. Her stance was about as casual as a black-tie dinner.
Tanaka opened his folder, removed the top page, and held it out so that Noah and Emma could read it. “This is a signed statement from Franklin Bishop. In it, he claims your client called him after they released him on his contempt of court charge and stated that he was tired of the constant lawsuits and that it would be in everyone’s best interest to settle. Bishop further states your client told him he’d leave a settlement offer in a manila envelope on your front porch.”
“So,” Emma said, but she didn’t like where this was going. “Bishop claims my client contacted him. My client says he didn’t. What do you have in the way of actual proof to corroborate Bishop’s claim?”
Tanaka produced another piece of paper and held it out. “This is a copy of Bishop’s phone records. There’s an incoming call when he said he received one.”
“Well then, color me convinced, Detective.” Emma scanned the sheet of paper and then placed it back down. “All this proves is that Bishop received a call. Still waiting for the part that proves my client called him.”
“The call originated from inside Whitlow Group’s Houston office.”
“Yes, I noticed that. I also noticed that the number you highlighted is not any of Mr. Whitlow’s office numbers, as he has several. All you’ve got here is that someone inside Whitlow Group’s office complex made the call. Do you know how many people work in Whitlow Group’s Houston complex, Detective? Close to a thousand. And don’t get me started with the number of visitors who go in and out of Whitlow Tower daily. Have you pinpointed the exact phone where the call was supposedly placed?”
Her voice was even, but everything inside her shook. If they had traced the call to an exact phone, would one of the security feeds catch someone making the call? The attorney and the woman hoped so. They also hoped that that person wasn’t Noah.
Hill finally spoke. “Not yet, but we will. We’re getting a revised search warrant as we speak. Soon, we’ll know the exact place the call was made and who made it.”
Emma nodded and then leaned into Noah, close enough to feel the heat of his breath on her neck. “Tell me the truth,” she whispered so low that only Noah could hear her. “Did you make that call?”
“No. I was running late that day and rushing to get home and get ready for our date.”
She tried not to let memories of that night derail her train of thought. “And why were you running late?”
“I was discussing the fundraising idea with Ethan. We argued. You can ask him.”
The same Ethan who’d been in Noah’s office when the detectives had arrived?
“What time did you leave the office?” she asked.
“I think it was around five-thirty.”
Emma turned to Tanaka. “What time did my client supposedly make this call?”
“According to phone records, at five thirty-two.”
“Interesting,” Emma said, adding an inflection to her tone to make Tanaka and Hill wonder if she was onto some major flaw in their theory. Secretly, she was terrified they were right.
Hill joined them and placed a piece of paper on the table. “This is a signed confession from Archer Doyle. Do you remember him, Mr. Whitlow?”
Emma instructed Noah to remain silent. “Who is Archer Doyle?” Emma asked when no one offered any further details.
“The man your client paid to throw those gas bombs through your windows,” answered Hill. “Doyle also says he was at a certain birthday party at the Whitlow residence many years ago when a certain young woman made quite the scene.”
Under the table, Noah grabbed Emma’s leg like a drowning man to a life raft. She didn’t shake him off, didn’t seize his hand in return, either. He was scared and clinging to her? If he’d done everything they’d said, wouldn’t he be doing the opposite right now and trying to get farther away from her? Or did the name have Noah so rattled that he’d cling to anyone?
Then again, the guilty were scared when they were about to be busted.
“What does a party many years ago have to do with someone burning down my house?” Emma asked.
