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So it was work-related. But did Roman know what case? Again, not something Caleb was gonna ask at this point.
“Letters too. Photos. Someone’s tailing me, but I already sensed that before I received that first picture. Then my apartment was broken into, everything torn apart, but nothing seemed to be taken.”
Roman’s voice was clipped and professional despite the shadows in his eyes.
“Could you determine a point of entry?” Ryan asked.
“No. The door was still locked, windows all intact. I have no clue how they got in and out.”
“And I assume you don’t have a security system?”
“I do, but it was off-line during the break-in. Very convenient.”
Also very professional. Not the work of casual burglars.
Roman rubbed the back of his neck. “And there’s been an online smear campaign against me. Weird social media posts with fabricated pictures that accuse me of being a pedophile, of paying women for sex, of being bribed to drop certain cases. One ran a completely made-up interview with my ex-wife, Yolanda. Those have been hard to deal with, to be honest. They’re attacking my character and integrity.”
When Roman finished, silence fell again, a pregnant pause. Wander leaned forward, elbows on the table, a storm brewing in his steady gaze. “There’s more,” he said tersely.
Roman shot him a glare that could slice steel. “Wander…”
“Come on.” Wander’s tone brooked no argument. “If we’re doing this, we’re not holding back.”
“Fine.” Roman relented with a scowl. “But I’m warning you, it’s gonna make me sound like I’m losing my mind.”
Caleb’s gut twisted. Losing his mind? What the hell was going on?
“Two weeks ago,” Roman said, voice sharp with bitterness, “my secretary quit. Accused me of sending her inappropriate messages.”
He fisted his hands, knuckles white, and tightened his jaw, the lines around his mouth deepening. Caleb might’ve just met the man, but no way would he send messages like that. It didn’t vibe at all with his professional demeanor and the ethics he’d displayed so far. Would a man who was that concerned about consent do that? Caleb didn’t buy it.
“Did she have proof?” Ryan’s question cut through the tension, direct and unyielding.
“I was in back-to-back meetings when she said the messages were sent. I have witnesses and security footage. Hell, my phone records don’t lie.”
“Someone spoofed your phone,” Caleb said. “Made it look like the messages were coming from you.”
“Someone also gained access to my laptop. Files were moved around overnight, turning my whole filing system upside down, but nothing was deleted. My laptop is encrypted and password-protected, so I have no idea how anyone got in.”
Caleb leaned forward. This was getting intriguing. “Was your laptop ever out of your possession? At a repair shop or anything?”
“No, never.”
“Do you use public Wi-Fi?”
People underestimated the risk of using unsecured networks and the many ways in which those could be exploited by someone with the right tools and enough malice.
“Not with that laptop. My personal one when I have to, but never for work-related stuff. Not on my phone either.”
Caleb nodded, considering the implications. Whoever was behind this had serious skills.
“Tell ‘em about the crash,” Wander said.
There was still more? Holy shit.
“A few weeks ago, I went to bed feeling unwell and woke up in the morning super groggy and with a massive headache. Later that day, my insurance company called. They were handling the claim from the person I’d hit. I had no clue what they were referring to, and they sent me a copy of an accident report I apparently filled out after rear-ending another driver. My car did have minor damage, and the report is in my handwriting and has my insurance details and signature, but I have no recollection of driving that night.”
“What the actual fuck?” Ryan said, and that summed it up perfectly. What the actual fuck, indeed. How was that even possible? Now Caleb understood why Roman had feared they’d question his sanity.
