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I screwed up, but I can explain everything. Please, Emma, just give me five minutes. I swear I didn’t betray you.
She’d unblocked his number yesterday after sitting down and wading through the Everest of information she and Andi had discovered. They’d also found an unexpected ally, but Emma hadn’t dared call Noah yet. She couldn’t. The guilt was suffocating. She’d abandoned the man she loved at the police station in his time of need. What kind of lawyer did that?
What kind ofloverdid that?
But now, she was back on the case and back on his side. She’d been working nearly nonstop for the past thirty-six hours to prove Noah’s innocence. Noah Whitlow III had systematically and thoroughly been set up. The frame job was good, too. Hell, she’d fallen for it, hadn’t she?
But clearing Noah’s name was just the start. When the Whitlow family learned the truth, it would change everything.
She was saving one Whitlow while destroying another.
The doorbell rang, interrupting her from her musings. Sliding her phone into her pocket, she resolved to call Noah as soon as she could. They had a very long discussion in their future, but first, she had to get through this meeting.
She opened the door to exactly who she’d been expecting. “Detective Tanaka,” she said to the lone figure at the door. “Thank you for coming.”
Tanaka nodded but didn’t look happy about being summoned, not that she could blame him. She’d asked him to come alone or with an associate other than his partner. While Tanaka had, at least, remained cordial during the interrogation, Hill had not, and Emma wanted Hill to have no part in this matter’s resolution. When Emma was through with her, Hill would be lucky to keep her badge.
“We’re in the dining room,” Emma said, stepping aside and allowing him entry to Andi’s house.
“We?” Tanaka asked.
Emma nodded and led Tanaka to the dining room. She’d thought it best to do all this away from Whitlow Tower, and her entire legal team agreed. David Reynolds, Mary Clark, and Brad Ackerman sat at the table with Ethan Whitlow.
District Attorney Thomas Vance sat across from them. Emma had used her connections—and some of Junior’s—to have the DA here. He and Junior were old golf buddies. Emma had also asked Junior for one more favor: not to tell his son that she’d contacted him. Given everything, she wanted to tell Noah on her own, and Junior had grudgingly agreed to let her.
Sitting at the head of the table, in the power position, Emma motioned Tanaka to the chair beside DA Vance. “Please, have a seat, Detective.”
“Okay, now that everyone is here,” Vance began, “are you going to tell us why you’ve called us here? I don’t like being summoned, even if it is at the request of an old friend.” Vance was tall and broad-shouldered. He intimidated the hell out of most opposing counsel, but Emma wasn’t just any lawyer—and this wasn’t just any case.
She straightened her shoulders and said, “Thank you for agreeing to this meeting. On behalf of our client, Ethan Whitlow, I’d like to discuss an immunity arrangement.” She flipped over the top document she’d placed on the table earlier and slid it across the table. “In exchange for complete prosecutorial immunity, my client is prepared to offer evidence on the individual responsible for the arson at my residence and the subsequent framing of Noah Whitlow the Third.”
“Framing?” asked Vance, sitting straighter, brows drawing together. Score one for her; she’d piqued his interest.
Ethan moved forward as if to answer, but Emma placed a hand on his arm and shook her head. “Until the immunity deal is signed,” she said, “my client invokes his Fifth Amendment rights on self-recrimination. However, I will state that my client was unaware of this plot and his unwilling role in it. As soon as he began to suspect the true culprit, he started his own investigation, which is where we connected. He wants to do the right thing, gentlemen, but he’s also scared. After going over the detailed evidence he provided, I concluded that he was as much a victim in this as both Noah and I.”
Vance scrubbed a hand over his face and picked up the papers Emma offered.
Noah unlockedhis phone to call Andi. She might not be one of his biggest fans now, but she was still head of Whitlow Tower security, and he needed her help. Emma hadn’t responded to his text, and he was finished hiding in his hotel like some criminal. He was getting out of here and getting Emma back, one way or the other.
His thumb millimeters from the call button, the phone dinged with an incoming text.
Emma:
Turn to Channel 11. After, call me.
Brows drawing together, he re-read the text, but it made no more sense the second time. She wanted him to turn to Channel 11? It was just after five, so maybe there was news on his impending arrest, and she was giving him a heads up?
Noah was pretty surePapá’sfriendship with the DA was the only reason he hadn’t been formally arrested already. And if there was news about his impending arrest, why was Emma breaking radio silence just to text him that? Did she want to make sure he knew, turning the knife so to speak?
But even as the question formed, he knew the answer would be no. She’d been at his side in the interrogation even when she’d thought him guilty. Plus, she simply wasn’t vindictive. It wasn’t in her nature. It was part of what he loved about her.
He’d just turned to the channel when the door burst open, and his parents rushed in, their expressions animated. “Did you see,Mijo?”Mamáasked. “Emma is on the news.”
Yes, there she was, standing at a lectern outside Whitlow Tower. She wore a power-black pantsuit and a pale pink blouse. Her hair was down, with none of the soft curls he’d grown to adore running his fingers through. Instead, it was knife-edge straight. She looked confident, in charge, and so stunning that he nearly reached out and stroked her cheek on the screen.
David and Mary bracketed her, and a man he didn’t recognize stood next to Andi, both a few steps to Emma’s left. A smattering of reporters stood in front of them.
She was giving a press conference?
