“You tell me. This man was seen entering Houghton’s lobby the day before your boss was murdered. And he used your ID badge to enter the building. So for the third time, Ms. Littlejohn, do you know this man?”
My eyes riveted on the grainy photos. I tried to slow my breathing, to gather my thoughts, to stay in control of the situation. Breathe in. Breathe out.
“Like I told you the last time you were here, I lost my ID badge a few days ago.”
“Yes, you did mention that, didn’t you?” Bradford said flatly. She shook her head. I could tell my explanation fell on disbelieving ears.
Don’t get rattled. “I guess this guy must have found it and entered the building,” I said coolly.
“You folks are awfully lax on security around here.” She eyed me, waiting for a response. Another familiar pregnant pause between us. “So you’re telling me you don’t know who this man is?”
“No.” It disturbed me just how easily the lie rolled off my tongue. I knew almost as soon as I said it that I’d made a huge mistake. Lying to the police was not a good look, especially as a lawyer. I glanced toward the door, hoping an interrupting colleague might stop by, or maybe I just wanted to run.
“Let me get this straight. You didn’t meet with your boss as you normally do on the same day he’s brutally murdered, and a man you claim you don’t know used your security badge to enter the building.” The detective shook her head slowly. “That is quite a coincidence, don’t you think?” Bradford gave me a suspicious stare.
I glanced at the photos again and released a long, deep breath. “I’m sorry, Detective. I wish I could help you.”
“I wish you could too. I’d be happy if anyone in this company would help me with this investigation. Michael Sayles was killed right here in this very office and no one knows a thing.” Bradford said, scooping up the photos. “I showed these pictures to a few people around here and no one seems to know who he is. Not even the person whose badge he used.”
I gave a weak shrug. She glared at me again. I knew she didn’t believe me, but that was her problem since she couldn’t prove I was lying.
She did a 360-degree turn and surveyed the room, sizing up my office again. “So how do you like being the new general counsel?” Bradford said.
“It’s fine.” If I was curt, maybe she would finally get the message and leave instead of standing around trying to trip me up in a lie.
“So now you work directly for the CEO, huh?”
“Yes.”
“From the looks of things around here, it must be a pretty sweet gig.” Bradford stroked a finger across the top of one of the linen guest chairs in front of my desk. “Beautiful view, expensive furniture, fresh flowers. Fine indeed. And how do you like working with your new colleagues?”
“They’re fine.”
“Your promotion happened pretty quickly, too.” She leaned across the back of the guest chair in front of my desk and gave me a slight smile. “I’ve transferred departments before. In my experience, it always takes a little time for my new colleagues to get used to working with someone like us, the new woman in their midst. How’s it going for you so far?”
I tried to tamp down my anxiety. Bradford was smart. Maybe even smarter than me. “Is there anything else I can do for you, Detective?” I asked calmly.
“You should probably replace that security badge, huh?”
“I will.”
She cast another suspicious glance around the room and then stared at me for a beat before leaving. I watched her float out of my office for the second time, and for the second time, I had lied to her.
Shit. I tried to think. Why the hell didn’t Hardy tell me he’d released the lobby footage to the police? I’d have to deal with Hardy later. I had more pressing problems now.
I gave the detective what I imagined was enough time to get off the twentieth floor before I grabbed my purse and coat and bolted through the office door.
“Anita,” I blurted. “I have to leave.”
“Okay, is everything all ri—”
“I may not be back today!” I yelled over my shoulder.
I knew exactly who the man in the photos was and I’d need the rest of the day to figure out why my brother was roaming the halls of Houghton with my security badge the day before Michael was murdered.
Chapter 15
I rolled up to the front of Geno’s Convenience Mart, a small shabby-looking store located in a strip mall in the West End section of Atlanta. Sam was likely to be here in the middle of the day. This was the slice of town Atlanta’s prosperity boom had forgotten. The area was littered with an array of storefronts offering nail salons, soul food restaurants, twenty-five-dollar hair weave bundles, and all things in between. It was only a matter of time before gentrification gurus and developers would find this gem in the raw.