Chapter 319 Breakroom Gossip Vs Cold Blood
Ella
As the sun peeked through the gaps in my curtains, illuminating the quiet of my bedroom, my phone buzzed.
The name on the screen-Logan-made my heart race. It had been a week since our conversation at the bar, and while the weight of his story still lingered between us, our professional relationship had felt as though it solidified.
“Morning.” I answered, my voice still raspy from sleep. “You’re calling me bright and early today.”
“Ella,” he greeted, his tone more formal than I’d grown used to. “The last case you handled for me went well. I have another one, but this… it’s different. More complicated. A lot more complicated.”
I sat up, intrigued. “Complicated how?”
He paused, choosing his words carefully. “There’s been a murder. On a property I own.”
The gravity of his words settled over me. I chewed the inside of my cheek as I ran my hand through my hair, my eyes darting across the room.
“A murder?” I asked quietly.
Logan was silent for a moment. “Yes,” he finally replied. “Ella, I… His voice softened a bit. “I know how it sounds, but it had nothing to do with me. And yet…” He paused again. I heard the sound of another voice in the background- someone calling his name.
“Logan?” I called out.
I could hear him clear his throat. “Actually, I’ll send you the details later, alright?” he said. “Something came up.”
I sighed. It was only six in the morning, and I was already being bombarded with a case that I hadn’t been expecting; a murder, of all things. “I see,” I said, putting on my best professional voice. “Just get me the details, and I’ll handle it.”
T’ll send everything over,” he replied, his tone slightly softer. “But brace yourself, Ella. This one’s a maze.”
I smirked, confidence surging. “I love a good challenge.”
The line went dead, leaving me with a mix of excitement and trepidation. Little did I know, the day had more in store for me than just a new case.
Walking into the office, the hustle of the morning shift greeted me. The air buzzed with activity, with detectives and officers exchanging notes, sipping on their coffee, and prepping for the day ahead.
Ignoring the curious glances in my direction, I made my way to my desk, lost in thoughts about Logan’s mysterious case.
As I started up my computer, a faint murmur reached my ears. The voices came from the breakroom, and something compelled me to move closer. I halted just outside the door, the conversation growing clearer.
“You won’t believe this,” one voice-clearly Rebecca’s, with her signature nasal tone-said, dripping with condescension. “The rookie’s got herself another case. Third one. And they say that this one’s even bigger.”
“Ugh,” another voice, which I recognized as Mark’s, chimed in, “I’ve been here for five years, and I’ve never been handed something of this magnitude. Especially not on a silver platter like her.”
There was a pause, followed by a sneering laugh. “Well, maybe if you were sleeping with your client, you’d have a shot too,” Rebecca quipped.
The blood rushed to my face, anger and humiliation mingling in a dangerous cocktail. I felt my hands curl up into fists at my sides, and my ears began to grow into slight points as the urge to shift started to creep up on me.
Ema stirred inside of me “Tell them.” she growled, bristling at their harsh words. “Tell them that they’re wrong. You’re not sleeping with anyone.”
I shook my head, swallowing nervously to quell the anger. “No. It’s not worth it to try to argue against these gossips. Kill ’em with kindness, as Moana always says.”
Taking a deep breath, I straightened my posture and walked into the breakroom. “Good morning, everyone,” I greeted cheerfully, grabbing a coffee mug. “How’s everyone’s day so far?”
The room went silent. Most of them averted their gaze, their guilt evident. Slowly, one by one, they began to leave, the tension in the room palpable. All except Sarah. She lingered, her brown eyes narrowed, disdain evident.
As she approached me, her voice dripped with malice. “You should be ashamed of yourself, Ella.”
I met her gaze head-on, refusing to let her words rattle me. “Noted. Have a great day, Sarah,” I replied, opting for politeness. She huffed, casting me one last dirty look before walking out, her heels clicking angrily against the tile floor.
I took a moment, letting out a long sigh, feeling the weight of the morning’s events. But then, the thought of the challenging case ahead, the intricacies I’d have to unravel, pushed the incident to the back of my mind..
The pale glow of my computer screen was the only source of light in my dim office. Files that had yet to be neatly put away lay scattered across the desk, testament to the complex nature of the cases I had been handling since my arrangement with Logan.
The rhythmic clicking of my keyboard was the lone noise breaking the quiet, until the soft knock on my door startled me.
“Come in,” I called, expecting to see one of my colleagues. But instead, Logan walked in, his usually confident posture replaced by one of tension. His stormy eyes held a hint of vulnerability that I hadn’t seen before.
“Logan,” I started, standing up. “What brings you here? I thought you were going to send me an email or something.”
He took a deep breath, closing the door gently behind him. “I was,” he said, running a hand through his dark hair. “But I decided that it would be best if I talked to you in person, because some things have changed about this case.”
He looked me straight in the eyes. “As you know, someone was murdered in one of my restaurants-La Lune, it’s called. And up until now, it was somewhat cut-and-dry.”
I leaned back in my chair, intrigued. “Explain.”
Logan nodded solemnly. “It was a gunshot wound to the head. Quick, clean, and clearly planned out. One of my chefs. I wasn’t too concerned about it, figuring that it was some sort of personal beef he had with someone else. But now, the other chef who was there just contacted me this morning. Or at least, his lawyer did. And he’s claiming that it was me who shot the other guy.”
I blinked, taken aback. “You?”
He looked exasperated. “Of course, I didn’t do it. Why the hell would I shoot my own chef? Hell, I just gave him a raise. He was a good employee.”
My mind raced, processing the information. “Do you have an alibi?”
He looked momentarily relieved. “Yes. I was at ‘The Whiskey Barrel’, my other joint, for at business meeting. There were at least six people with me. Witnesses.”
“That’s good,” I said, relief washing over me. “Get in touch with every single person who was with you. We’ll need them to give formal statements, ASAP.”
Logan ran a hand through his hair, a gesture of frustration. “I never thought I’d be in a situation like this, Ella. Especially not accused of something so grave.”
“I believe you,” I assured him, reaching across the desk to place my hand over his. “And I’ll do everything in my power to clear your name.”
His gaze locked onto mine, gratitude evident in his blue eyes. “You have no idea how much that means to me. Honestly, Ella, you never cease to impress me.”
His words caught me off guard. My cheeks warmed, and I pulled my hand back, unable to suppress a bashful smile. “Well, we’ve tackled two cases together. What’s one more, right?”
He chuckled, the tension easing slightly. “You have a point. But this…” He sighed deeply. “This one is personal. I have a feeling that someone put that chef up to framing me, and I think we both know who that could be.”
I swallowed, my mind immediately going to the most obvious culprit. Harry. No one else had such a vendetta against Logan. Knowing what I knew about Harry so far, this was just the next step of his to make Leonard give him the family title.
“We’ll handle it,” I said firmly. “Just like the others.”
Logan nodded, standing up. “I’ll get to work, gather the people. Thank you, Ella.”
I watched him leave, my mind already racing with plans and strategies. This was unexpected, yes. But I was more determined than ever to help Logan. And win the case, just as easily as the other two.
