The holding room door opened. Nora Whitfield stepped inside wearing a black coat over her business suit, her silver hair pulled back severely. She carried a leather briefcase and a look that could cut glass. Officer Bellamy, she said coolly. Step away from my client.
Bellamy stood slowly. We're just having a conversation. No, you're attempting to interrogate a detained suspect without counsel present. The conversation is over. Bellamy's face flushed, but he moved toward the door.
Your client made threats against a respected member of this community. Counselor, that's not going to disappear because you show up with paperwork. Nora opened her briefcase and pulled out a thick folder. Officer, by sunrise tomorrow, this entire department's relationship with Halbrook Dynamics will be under federal investigation. I suggest you focus on protecting yourself instead of continuing to protect people who never cared about protecting you.
Bellamy's confident expression flickered. What's that supposed to mean? It means your text messages with Vanessa Halbrook are evidence now. It means your response patterns in wealthy neighborhoods versus poor neighborhoods are being analyzed. It means the technology contract your department signed with Halbrook Dynamics is about to become exhibit A in a civil rights investigation.
The color drained from Bellamy's face. He looked at Marcus, then back at Nora. You're bluffing. Nora pulled out her phone and scrolled through her recent emails. FBI field office received at 12:31 a.m.
City Inspector General received at 12:33 a.m. Federal Communications Commission received at 12:35 a.m. She looked up at Bellamy. Would you like me to continue? Bellamy left the room without another word.
Nora sat down across from Marcus. Are you hurt? No, just tired of being treated like a criminal in my own neighborhood. Well, that's about to change. She opened the folder and showed him copies of the documents.