Chapter 322 Fall Guy

Ella

The meeting had been far more intense than I’d anticipated. The courthouse’s grandeur, with its marble floors and tall pillars, had done little to cushion the impact of Westbrook’s verbal blows.

As we exited the grand, double doors, the change in environment was immediately noticeable. From the stifling intensity inside, we were met with an unexpected chill. The sky had turned a somber shade of gray, with raindrops starting to patter, as if the heavens shared in our melancholy.

“Ella,” Logan began, his voice hoarse from the discussions, the umbrella already in hand, warding off the steadily falling rain. His face looked drawn, every drop of rain that splattered against it emphasizing his deep-set lines of worry.

I took a deep breath, feeling the moisture in the air, the weight of the day pressing down.

“Logan, with this information, we need to check with the police. We need to see that bullet casing. If it has a serial number or any defining mark, and it doesn’t match any of the guns in your possession or of your men, it’s a lead. And a damn good one at that.”

He looked at me, the cold rain painting streaks on his face. Without a word, he extended the umbrella towards me, silently inviting me beneath its shelter.

“Listen,” he said, “I didn’t want to say this earlier, but the police in this city aren’t… the cleanest.. They have ties. We need to be careful what we ask for.”

Pulling my coat tighter, I stepped closer, finding refuge under the umbrella. “That’s exactly the reason why we need to get to the bottom of this. If there’s corruption and foul play at work here, we have to uncover it.”

A pause settled between us, filled only with the sound of rain and the distant hum of the city. “You know,” he murmured, “you don’t have to do this alone. I’m right here with you.”

His sincerity took me by surprise. We had been allies, even something akin to friends, for a little while now, but this level of trust was new.

“Logan, I appreciate it, but you don’t need to come with me,” I said. His jaw set with determination. “No,” he said, his voice nearly drowned out by the sound of the rain pattering against the umbrella, “I do.”

and I approached the police station. It was one of those buildings that loomed large and intimidating against the gray

bricks stacked upon each other with age told stories of countless cases, some solved and some forever lost in the

I began, clutching the edge of the photograph tightly, “there’s just no way they would have missed it. That bullet casing was glaringly obvious. Right there in

before answering. “It doesn’t make sense, Ella. I’ve seen

stopped, forcing him to turn to me. “Intentionally? But

of the unsaid hanging between us.

paperwork. It buzzed with life as officers darted

to this place,” I admitted under my breath, scanning the room for any

exactly a tourist attraction,” Logan quipped, guiding me towards the counter where a

evidence related to the recent homicide on Parker Street,” Logan informed

officer looked up, his eyes scanning us both, sizing us

“and this is my client. I’m his attorney. We have

and he took it, his eyes scanning it. The officer smirked, leaning back in his chair. “Oh really? And what

photograph. His eyes darted to the picture,

bullet casing.” I pointed at the image. “Where

said, getting up.

an annoying buzz in my ears. Finally, the officer

not there,” he admitted. “I can’t find any

Your guys were all over

balance. So, tell me, who

pause, the officer replied,

me. “Can we speak to him?” he asked. The officer shook his head. “He’s off duty. Won’t be back till

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