“How are you?” Bree held out a hand. She had met Morgan during a previous case and had been impressed.
“Better than you.” Morgan shook it. “Come on back to my office. I hope you don’t mind, I roped my husband, Lance Kruger, into our meeting. From what I know of your case, we’ll need him.” She turned and walked down a hallway.
“All right, but I didn’t give you any details on my case.” Bree followed.
“You didn’t need to.” Morgan glanced back. “Technically, I’ll hire the investigation firm, so they operate under our attorney-client privilege.” She led the way into a medium-size office. A huge whiteboard covered one wall. A tall, beefy blond man drank from a mug.
Morgan introduced them. “Sheriff Taggert, this is Lance Kruger.”
They shook hands.
“Coffee?” Lance asked.
“No, thanks.” Bree wanted to keep this appointment as brief as possible.
Morgan went behind her desk. Lance perched on the corner. They were a ridiculously good-looking couple, like models for a wedding cake topper.
Bree sat in a guest chair and spilled her guts about the email threats she’d been receiving, then described the deepfake video and images the county forensics department had traced to Oscar’s computer.
“I can issue the takedown orders.” Morgan folded her hands on her blotter. “We have a cybersecurity expert on staff who is excellent at internet sleuthing. She’ll be able to track down shares of the video.”
Lance lifted his mug. “In the interest of full disclosure, the expert is my mother.”
Morgan’s eyes sharpened. “Even she won’t be able to find every copy. Once something hits the internet, it’s out there for good, and these seem to be going viral, but we’ll make it costly for any major site to knowingly share the deepfakes. We’ll sue them all. I’ll make sure to include the Daily Grind and name Paris Vickers.” She frowned. “We saw the press conference.”
“I’m not litigious,” Bree protested. The thought of suing dozens of news agencies made her queasy.
Morgan nodded. “I understand, but in this case, you need to be. You are protecting your reputation, possibly your career. The lawsuits need to make a very loud and very public statement.”
Bree must have looked doubtful.
“The images and story are titillating.” Morgan swiveled her chair. “A female sheriff appearing in pornography? That’s fantasy fodder. The less reputable news agencies will continue to share the video and pictures as long as they generate interest and activity. By suing anyone who publishes them, we cause them to incur legal expenses. We have to make sharing the images cost more than the clicks they generate are worth.”
“That’s depressing,” Bree said.
Morgan sat back. “That’s reality.”
Bree knew she was right. “OK.”
“So, we’re doing this?” Lance asked.
“Yes.” Bree nodded. There was no point hiring and paying for the best attorney in the area if you weren’t going to take her advice.
Lance rose. “I’m going to call my mom and get her started with tracing the deepfakes.” He excused himself and left the office.
Assuming the meeting was over, Bree shifted forward, preparing to stand.
“I’d like to talk about another matter.” Morgan drummed her fingers on the desktop.
“Okaaaay.” Bree settled herself back in the chair. She sensed she wasn’t going to like where the conversation was headed.
“The video isn’t my only concern.” Morgan leaned forward again. “Regarding the other piece from Paris Vickers and the Daily Grind, the interview with Bernard Crighton and his daughter, the lawyer—”
“I’m not resigning,” Bree interrupted.
“No. Of course not,” Morgan said. “But you do have a conflict of interest with the Eugene Oscar murder investigation.”
Bree blew out a hard breath.
Morgan continued. “Eugene Oscar worked for the sheriff’s department. You and he had a conflict. Regardless of the labeling of his exit from the department as retirement, it’s known among enough people that you forced him out.”
“There’s a paper trail of misconduct,” Bree protested.
Morgan shook her head. “Which is irrelevant to the discussion.”
Bree’s instinct was to argue, but she was paying for the lawyer’s advice. So Bree shut her mouth and listened.
Morgan tapped a forefinger on the desk. “To make matters worse, if Oscar is the one who uploaded the deepfakes, then you have a personal motive as well as a professional one.”