What He Needs(3)

I knew it was wrong, but I texted Noah.

Your secretary’s dead. They found her in the park. Any idea who might have done it?

It probably wasn’t the best way for him to find out. I could have been more subtle. But I needed to know what he knew.

Where r u? came the reply.

In the park. Answer the question.

“Charlotte,” Professor Worthington was saying. “I’m going to need you to meet with me this afternoon. We’re going to have to start going over the police report, and find out when the autopsy is scheduled. We’ll have to meet with Mr. Cutler, we’ll have to find out exactly where he was during the time of Katie’s death.” I wanted to point out that was exactly what I’d just said, but I resisted. Professor Worthington ran his fingers through his hair and then looked over at me, his eyes sharp. “Are you taking notes, Charlotte? Or am I to assume that you have a photographic memory?”

“Oh, um, yes... I mean, no, I don’t have a photographic memory. I’ll take notes.” I rummaged around in my bag, pulling out a legal pad and a pen. It was all I could do not to pull my phone out and hold it in my hand possessively, waiting for Noah to text me back. I had it on vibrate, but sometimes I wouldn’t hear it if it was in my bag.

“We’re going to need to put in an information request for Katie’s computer, find out if there’s anything on it that could be helpful.”

I was scribbling furiously, trying to keep up with everything he was saying.

“We’ll also need her phone.” He was looking through his own phone, and I wondered if he was considering finally calling Noah. “We’ll need a computer expert, get Courtney Randio, she’s the best when it comes to that stuff. And tell her we’re going to need a lower rate, that I know what she charged Fitzgerald.”

I was writing faster and faster, trying to keep up with all the information. The whole time, all I could think about was Noah. Noah, Noah, Noah.

Could he have killed someone? Could I have spent last night with a killer? My instinct said no. But that was how sociopaths and psychopaths got you. They charmed you and made you think they could never be capable of the heinous things they did. It was part of their personality disorder. We’d had to read all about personality disorders in intro to criminal law last year when we studied insanity defenses.

Would Noah be charged with murder? Would we have to plead him as being insane? Would I be defending a man I’d slept with from murder?

“Oh, good,” Professor Worthington said, looking down the walking path toward the police barrier. “There’s Josh.”

I turned to look. Sure enough, there was Josh. He was standing on the other side of the barrier, obviously having been stopped by the policemen. He was gesturing to Professor Worthington.

“What’s he doing here?” I asked.

“I asked him to come down,” Worthington said. “You’re going to need help with all the paperwork.”

My head was spinning, adrenaline pumping through my veins. Now not only did I have to worry about Noah being a murderer, but I had to worry about working with Josh.

“I thought Noah said he didn’t want him on the case,” I said, trying my best to keep my voice from betraying any emotion.

“Noah?” Professor Worthington asked, raising his eyebrow.

“Um, I mean, Mr. Cutler.”

“Mr. Cutler didn’t want Josh working directly with him, that’s true. But I’m sure he wouldn’t have any objections to him working on paperwork.” Professor Worthington put his fingers in his mouth and whistled down to the police officers. “Hey!” he said. “Let him through! He’s with me!”

“Why are we allowed back here anyway?” I asked. Now that I thought about it, it was definitely bizarre. Why was someone’s lawyer being allowed onto an active crime scene? Especially since Noah hadn’t even been charged with a crime.

Worthington turned to me and glared. “Charlotte,” he said. “Please don’t be so naïve. With the law, it’s all about who you know.” His gaze focused on something over my right shoulder. “Josh,” he said. “Finally.”

“What’s up?” Josh said, obviously deciding to be totally unprofessional. Not that I was surprised. Someone who’d been jerking off into my panties twelve hours ago probably wasn’t too concerned with decorum.

“What’s up is that there’s a dead body,” Worthington said. He shook his head, like he couldn’t believe how obviously incompetent we were.

“Hey, Charlotte,” Josh said. He gave me a big smile and held out a paper Starbucks cup. “I brought you a coffee.”