“No. But I don’t know her barometer for lewd.”
I swear Damien is fighting a smirk. If I remember correctly, we exchanged two or three text messages after a phone call, all merely to confirm a time and location to meet.
“What’s your barometer, Mr. Graham?” the female officer asks.
Damien interrupts. “It seems like you’re fishing. Do you have any proof my client was involved with Cecelia Lancaster’s murder? Because I can’t see how Mrs. Lancaster would be so upset over a failed relationship for her friend.”
The female officer shoots Damien a death stare. “Mr. Graham, were you in Ms. Lancaster’s room?”
“Not that I can recall.” If I’ve learned anything, it’s never to say definitely because they already know the answer to the question.
“Then why was there a fingerprint of yours in her room?” She crosses her arms, sits back, and lets that sink in.
Damien stands. “I think we’re done with this questioning.”
I stand and am quite pleased with Damien, but a bit taken aback by their revelation. I was never in Cecelia’s room.
“If you need to continue your questioning, please contact me at my office with a list of questions, and we’ll make arrangements for you to meet with Mr. Graham. But until then, we’re done,” Damien stands to lead them out of the conference room.
We walk out, and I ask Quint, “Can you please see the detectives out?”
Damien follows me upstairs to my office, and we sit down. “Much of what they have is a bunch of crap. Why would you murder someone because she didn’t like that you dumped her friend? If the fingerprint is all they have, they don’t have very much.”
“I was never in her room. They’re lying about the fingerprint. But there isn’t much where I’m concerned. We argued because a competitor of mine was trying to sell her computer batteries that have a very short life—three months max in the best of conditions. I tried to steer her elsewhere, but they were chirping in her ear. And Cecelia may have been mad at me over Christina, but I never slept with her, and I think maybe I had one email exchange with her. I’ll go through my text and email messages and get you a copy of the call log. I’m confident she called a few times. I never returned her calls after our first drink date.”
I move over to my computer and click a few buttons.
“Yes, one email, and it was just setting a time to meet for drinks, which my assistant arranged for us.” I look up my email sent list, and there are messages to two other Christinas but nothing more.
Damien pushes his card across the desk to me. “Please send it to me. They like you because you’re rich. I know I was a stand-in, but I’m happy to help you with this matter. I understand if you have regular counsel, though.”
“Damien, I have plenty of lawyers, but they’re all business lawyers. I don’t typically have need for a criminal attorney. So for now, let’s leave this as is. Send over a retainer agreement.”
“You’ll have that this afternoon,” he says.
“As you know, Corrine is in Hawaii for a couple of weeks.”
“Yes, Gabby and I are flying in on your jet this weekend, if it all works out.”
“That’s right. I’m considering joining you.”
“That’d be great.”
I nod. “I appreciate you coming in on short notice.”
Damien extends his hand to me. “I’m sure you know this since you did so the first time, but please call me if they show up again. And I’ll let you know if we hear from them.”
He leaves with a nod, and I’m stuck ruminating about the fingerprint. I wasn’t in Cecelia’s room, so I don’t know how it would be possible for my fingerprint to show up there. I’ve been to the Shangri-la in Las Vegas several times over the last year, like the dozen or so people we play poker with.
I’m considering a glass of bourbon when there’s a knock at my door and Ms. Day enters.
“I finally got into your voice mail while you were in your meeting. You have a message from Mason Sullivan from yesterday at ten-oh-three. He’d like you to return the call.”
I nod and jot it down.
“You received a call from your mother at eleven-oh-eight, and again at two forty-seven.”
“I’ll call her later.”
“You also had a call to confirm dinner tonight with a Valerie Knudsen.”
I don’t recall scheduling dinner with Valerie. Our last conversation was not pleasant after she set me up and was looking for a date.
“Please call her back and cancel dinner.”
“May I say why?”
“She’s not on the calendar…” I debate my options. I’m upset with her, and talking to her would only cause further problems. I take a deep breath. “Please let her know that I can’t help her brother, and with Corrine out of the office, I’m overwhelmed right now. I’ll call her soon.”
Ms. Day looks over her glasses at me. “Are you going to call her back?”
“Probably not.”
She cocks her head to the side. “If she doesn’t hear from you, she’ll call back and blame me for not passing messages on. How about I finish by telling her you’re overwhelmed right now? If she presses to get on your calendar, I will tell her she needs to take it up with you. That way, you can be an adult and break up with this girlfriend.”
“She was never my girlfriend. She wants to be, but I’m not interested.”
“I’m old enough to be your mother, but you need to tell her that, not string her along.”
“I know you’re right; I just don’t usually have a good reason why I don’t want to date them, and I hate tears.” I chastise
