Behind the Dragons (Book 4 of Billionaire Bad Boys Series)

6

Brandon walked through the door of the Dragon’s Moon restaurant and was instantly greeted by Mrs. Lee. She was talking fast in broken English, shaking his hand and bowing repeatedly. He wasn’t sure just what she was saying, but she was very excited. She led him to a table. He made sense of some of what she said she was offering him tea, or food, or maybe both. He tried to explain he wasn’t hungry. Well actually he was, but he didn’t have the time. He had such little precious time he had to micromanage every moment.

He had only come to the restaurant to pick up Naomi just in case he needed a translator. She didn’t seem to be here. He tried to ask about her, but he didn’t think he was getting his questions across. Something told him Mrs. Lee didn’t speak much English. How did this woman work front of the house and not speak English? He repeated his question again, and the middle-aged woman bowed her head again and said something he didn’t understand.

It was at this point the doors opened, and Naomi came in. She was dressed in a pair of black tights with a short silk wrap around her waist draping her like a skirt. Her hair was pulled back in a slick bun like so many ballerinas. She was a vision. Her tights fit beautifully drawing the eye to her feminine attributes; her slim athletic figure, her long legs, narrow waist and perky breasts. She had a long, swanlike neck, a cute little button nose, and high cheekbones. She was stunning. Then there were her eyes, those deep dark eyes, the windows to the soul, and in her soul, Brandon saw a fierce passion, a strength he’d only ever seen in the eyes on one other woman. A woman that meant the world to him, the woman that taught him how to be a man, the woman that gave him life, the only woman in the world that meant anything to him.

Naomi spotted him right away and quickly joined them at the table. Brandon stood up to greet her with a smile, hoping she hadn’t noticed him staring. “I’m sorry I’m running behind. I was at rehearsal, and I missed the bus and had to wait for the next one.”

“It’s alright I just got here myself.”

“Just let me change, and we can go.” She said heading for the back of house gesturing for Brandon to follow her. “So, what is the plan?” She asked opening the door to the office and going inside only closing the door partly so she could still talk to him while she changed.

Brandon turned his back to the door and caught her reflection in the reflection of the steel doors of the walk-in freezer. “I want to talk to a few different people tonight.” He said watching her reflection. “It could take all night.”

“Well, I’m all yours.” She said as he watched her remove her silk wrap and then her tights. “I’ve already told my parents all about it, and they say I can take as much time off as needed to help you. So, what’s the first step?”

Brandon lost his train of thought when he saw her standing there in her bra and panties. It was an alluring sight. Brandon shook it off and cleared his throat awkwardly. “I’m sorry what did you say?” He asked as she pulled her t-shirt over her head.

“I asked what we were doing first.” She repeated and turned to leave the office.

Brandon stepped back out of the way of the door as she came out, turning his back to the freeze hoping she didn’t realize he had been watching her. He wasn’t usually a peeper, but it had been impossible to look away. After all, at the end of the day, he was still a man with the same urges as any man.

“I plan to talk to the witnesses first and then end by meeting the victim’s family. They own that connivance store around the corner, right?”

“They do, but I don’t think they’re going to be pleased to talk to the man defending the man that they believed murdered their daughter. You might want to reconsider.” She said taking her hair down. Those raven tresses tumbled over her shoulders and down her back.

He knew it was going to be a touchy encounter, but he thought it prudent to know more about the victim. He not only wanted to prove Kobee innocent he wanted to give the jury, the police, and the victim’s family a viable alternative suspect. He didn’t want just to win the case he wanted to bring closure to everyone involved, which he could only do if he knew the victim and the neighbourhood better. It was only a gut feeling, but Brandon suspected, given the close net community, that the victim knew her attacker. His gut didn’t usually steer him wrong.

“If it’s, all the same, I’ll talk to them anyway.” He said as they headed for the door. “I’d like to walk if you’re ok with that. I want to get a feel for the neighbourhood and see the crime scene for myself.”

Naomi shrugged. “Ok if that’s what you want.”

They walked the six blocks to the alley in question. It was getting late, but since it was the middle of summer the sun was still up, but the street and the alley, in particular, were already shadowy. The city had cleaned up the scene there was no sign of the brutal murder at all, but it was still invaluable firsthand knowledge to walk the scene.

Brandon had brought his copy or the police report, witness statements, and crime scene photos with him. He paced the alley examining the photos. He looked around trying to reconstruct the scene in his mind; the placement of the body, the pooling of the blood, the smell of trash from the bins. He stood in the center of the alley trying to visualize what it was like late at night when the sun was gone. Trying to get in the mind of the killer. Was this premeditated? Had he stalked her? Or was this a crime of opportunity?

If it had been him how would he have done it? He looked around and then at Naomi standing in the mouth of the alley watching him. She looked uncomfortable. “Walk past the alley.” He instructed. “Like the victim would have.”

She walked down the street and started coming back. He couldn’t see her until she was already at the alley, which only gave him mere seconds, to notice her, decide to attack her and to overpower her and drag her off the street before she passed him completely. Which meant the killer wasn’t hanging out in the alley, and it wasn’t a spur of the moment attack.

Brandon stood in the mouth of the alley and looked up and down the street. He could see no bus stop on that street, so she had probably gotten off the bus a few blocks away and was walking home. So, the attacker had followed her. She was targeted, and he needed to know why and by whom.

“Walk by the alley again.” He said. Naomi did as he instructed, only this time Brandon followed her. This was the way it happened. It was the only scenario that made sense. As they reached the alley, Brandon jumped Naomi from behind. Wrapped one arm around her torso to restrain her and his free hand clamped over her mouth so she couldn’t scream. He’d startled her and Naomi tried to scream, but his hand muffled her cry. She struggled as he dragged her into the alley and behind the dumpster where the body had been found.

The whole act took mere seconds and some effort. The victim wasn’t any bigger than Naomi, and it had taken him some effort to drag her out of sight. The victim was likely fighting and struggling as Naomi had. That left him with only one conclusion. The killer had to have been about the same size as Brandon, and he wasn’t a small man. He stood six-two and weighed nearly two hundred pounds. Kobee was nowhere close to the same build. Physically he couldn’t have pulled this off without the victim escaping, injuring him, or alerting someone to the attack.

Brandon released Naomi, and she turned around and punched him in the shoulder. “What the hell?”

“I had to know how long it would take.” He tried to explain.

“So, you scare the crap out of me?”

“Good news though I now know conclusively that Kobee couldn’t have done this. He’s not the right size.” They stood behind the dumpster where the crime took place, and from where he stood Brandon took mental notes of the surrounding apartment buildings. It was the building across the street that the witnesses claimed to have seen Kobee. There was no way someone from that building would have a clear view of this alley.

Brandon walked to the mouth of the alley and studied the building. Even from this angle, it would have been hard to see anyone. He looked around. If the killer was heading north after the attack like witnesses suggested they would only have seen him from behind. There was no way they could have seen his face. With the light already so poor at this hour it would have been impossible to have noticed any identifiable traits.

“Let’s go talk to the witnesses.” He said crossing the street. Naomi moved quickly to keep up with his long strides. The building wasn’t security locked, so they let themselves in and headed for the second floor where the first witnessed live.

They knocked on the door, and a middle-aged woman answered the door. Naomi introduced them, and while the women conversed, he looked into the apartment and counted six kids of various ages, an old woman in an armchair by the window, and a middle-aged man coming down the hallway. The woman at the door spoke to the man, and he replaced her at the door. Naomi asked if he spoke English.

“Yes.” He said in a heavy Japanese accent.

“Oh good.” Brandon smiled, that would make everything a lot easier. “May we come in and ask you a few questions?” He asked politely.

“What is this about?” He asked not eager to let them in as he scrutinized Brandon.

“It’s about the murder across the street. I understand you saw something that may be very important to the outcome of the case.”

“I’ve already told the police everything.” He said firmly.

“I know, but I have a few more questions about the details,” Brandon explained.

“It’s none of my business.” He said trying to shut the door on them.

Brandon reached out and stopped him from closing the door. “Mr. Yu, I’m sure you’re a very busy man, but you will answer my questions.” He said with authority. “Either now or in court when I subpoena your testimony. You can either give me a few minutes of your time now, or you can lose a few days of work sitting in a sweltering courtroom. This really would be easier.”

Naomi was looking at him like he was crazy threatening a witness and Mr. Yu looked like he was considering his request. He then stepped aside and let them in. “We can talk in the kitchen.” He said shutting the door behind them. Brandon and Naomi followed Mr. Yu into the tiny kitchen as he ordered his family out of the room. “Please sit down.” He said gesturing to the table.

Brandon and Naomi sat down, and Brandon got right to the point. “I understand that in the night in question you saw something. What exactly did you see?”

“I saw the killer exit the alley and head north.”

“How do you know it was the killer?”

“Who else would it have been?”

“Just someone passing by. So, you saw the man emerge from the alley?” Brandon asked as he took notes.

“Not actually come out of the alley.” Mr. Yu said. “He was at the mouth of the alley, and he was heading north.”

“Then how could you be so sure he came from the alley and wasn’t just walking past?”

Mr. Yu looked unsure for a moment. “I suppose that is possible although unlikely.”

“What time was it when you saw this man?”

“Probably a little after midnight.”

“And from what window did you see him?” Brandon asked. Mr. Yu pointed to the one beside the fridge. Brandon got up and walked over to the window. He looked out at the view of the alley and taking out his cell phone he took a picture of the vantage point. It wasn’t a clear view of the alley. It was off to the side, and there was a tall tree in the way. “What were you doing at this window at midnight?”

“I had worked a double and just gotten home I was looking for something to eat. I opened the fridge, and that’s when I saw the guy coming from the alley.”

“Allegedly coming from the alley.” Brandon corrected. “So, you were tired; it was the dead of night, the street lights aren’t all that bright, there was a tree obstructing your view and glare from the fridge light on the window.” He then looked at Mr. Yu. “How could you see anything definitively?”

“I saw a young man.” He said sounding a little unsure of himself now.

“Did you see his face?”

“No, I saw him from behind. He was short, thin; he was dressed in baggy jeans, an oversized shirt and one of those knit caps like you see on all those kids trying to play gangster.”

“But you saw him from behind? How could you tell what ethnicity he was?”

“This is China Town Mr. Sanchez, what do you think he was?” Mr. Yu said confrontationally.

“So, you’re just assuming he was Asian?” Brandon countered. “Hell, from this angle you’re probably just assuming it was a he.”

“Girls don’t dress that way.”

“But you don’t know for sure.” He said inflicting doubt on the prosecution’s witness. “For all, you know it could have been a transvestite… a woman that wants to be a man.”

“That’s unlikely.” Mr. Yu argued.

“But not imposable.”

“I suppose.”

That was all he needed, a little doubt that he could exploit on the stand. This man didn’t see anything, and the prosecution would be fools to put him in front of a jury.

“I think that’s all, thank you for your time,” Brandon said gesturing for Naomi to get up. They were leaving.

Mr. Yu showed them to the door, and once they were alone in the hall, Naomi spoke. “You were very rude to him.”

Brandon just chuckled. She had no idea what rude was. He had actually been quite pleasant and respectful, but if he faced that man on the stand he would destroy him, tear apart his credibility like a lion ripping out the throat of its prey. “Do you want me to clear your brother or be polite?”

“Clear my brother of course.”

“Then trust that I know what I’m doing.” He said heading for the end of the hall where the next witness lived. “Besides I’m not that bad if you compare me to my older brother. Have you ever heard of Lance Sanchez?”

“No.”

He paused in his tracks and looked at her. She had to be kidding. His brother was at the top of the fashion industry he thought every woman knew his name, but from the look in her eyes, she didn’t know who he was. “Well Lance is my eldest brother and compared to him, I’m a saint. He’s kind of rude.”

“Well do you think you could be a little more respectful with the next witness?” She asked following him to the end of the hall.

“I make no promises.” He said knocking on the door. The door opened slightly just enough until the chain was tight. A young woman may be in her thirties was looking back at them suspiciously. “Hello, Miss. Wong?”

“Yes.”

“Good, you speak English. My name is Brandon Sanchez. I’m a defence attorney, and this is Naomi Lee, my assistant. I was hoping you had a few minutes to answer some questions about the murder that occurred a few nights ago in the alley across the street.” She looked uncertain. “It will only take a few moments. I have a few questions about what you told the cops you saw that night.” Still, she didn’t open the door.

“Please, Miss. Wong; we’re just trying to figure out what happened.” Naomi said stepping in front of him. “A girl is dead, and an innocent boy may die for it. We’re just asking for a few minutes of your time.”

The door closed and they heard the chain slide out of place, and the door reopened. Miss. Wong stepped aside to let them in. They followed her to the living room where they all sat down. “It’s getting late; ask your questions so I can go to bed. I have to work in the morning.”

“This won’t take long,” Brandon promised. “What did you see?”

“I saw a teenage boy loitering around the alley and then he quickly left. He was headed north.”

“Did you see his face?”

“I only saw him from behind.” Miss. Wong admitted.

“Could you tell if he was black or white?”

“He was Asian.” She said with certainty.

“How do you know he was Asian?”

“He just looked Asian.”

“I thought you said you didn’t see his face.”

“He was short and dressed like one of those Black Dragons.”

“From what window did you see this man?” He asked. She pointed to the window next to them. Brandon got up and looked outside. He took a picture of the view. He could see the alley mouth but nothing else. From this angle, all anyone would have seen would have been the back of the alleged killer. “Did you see him come out of the alley?”

“No.”

“What time did you see him?”

“Shortly after midnight. I was getting back from the late shift. I had myself a sandwich, and then I was headed for bed. I came over to the window to shut off the lamp when I saw him. I didn’t think anything of it until the cops came knocking on the door two hours later.”

“So, you’re not sure what you saw.” He decided she was a weak witness.

“I saw a man.”

“Walking down the street isn’t a criminal offence. It doesn’t make one a murderer.”

“I saw what I saw.” She said standing firm. “It’s your job to make sense of it not mine. Now if you are finished, I’d like to go to bed.”

He didn’t have any more questions. This woman didn’t see anything. “Thank you for your time.” They got up and Miss. Wong showed them to the door.

“That was short,” Naomi said when they were alone in the hall.

“She didn’t see anything.” He said heading for the stairs. “She’s a useless witness; they’ll never put her on the stand. Now, Mrs. Lou, she is our real problem because she identified Kobee by name. She’s their key witness. We have to find a weakness in her story, poke some holes in it.” He said as they went up to the fourth floor.

“She’s eighty she may very well be asleep right now.”

“Elderly people stay up late and get up early. Besides it’s not that late.” He led the way to the apartment at the end of the hall. He knocked on the door loudly in case she was hard of hearing. He waited sometime before knocking again. It was possible she was coming but slowly. The door cracked open the chain in place. The old woman peeked out at them. She looked at Brandon first and then at Naomi. “Evening Mrs. Lou, my name is Brandon Sanchez. I’m a defence attorney, and this is my assistant Naomi Lee. I know it’s late, but I was hoping you could spare a few moments to answer some questions about the murder across the street.”

The old woman’s brow furrowed as if clueless to what he said. She didn’t speak English, so Naomi translated his request. Mrs. Lou replied and the door shut for a moment to remove the chain and then let them in.

Mrs. Lou slowly shuffled along to a Lay-Z-Boy recliner by the living room window. It was the only seat in the tiny living room right across from the TV. Judging from the arraignment of the furniture Brandon would guess Mrs. Lou spent a lot of time beside this window and saw most of what happened around that street. Mrs. Lou sat down in her chair with a groan that came with a failing body due to age.

Brandon and Naomi stood in the living room. He was sure this was the window she had been looking out when she saw the man she thought was Kobee. Mrs. Lou and Naomi seemed to know each other at least that was the impression he got from the way they talked to one another.

“Ask her what time she saw the alleged assailant.”

Naomi repeated his question. The woman answered. “Shortly after midnight,” Naomi informed him.

“Was this the window she saw him from, and what was she doing at the time?”

Again, Naomi translated and listened to the woman’s reply. Brandon paid close attention to her. He might not know what she was saying but the way she was saying it, her body language told him a lot about her. “She said she was sitting at this window watching TV because she couldn’t sleep. It was too hot. She was trying to open the window and let in some fresh air when she spotted a man coming out of the alley and rushed off.”

“She saw his face?”

Naomi asked and was answered. “Yes, she says he looked around before leaving, and she got a good look at him.” The woman spoke again, and Naomi repeated. “She says she’s seen him before. Him and his hoodlum friends making trouble on the street.” Naomi’s tone became defensive. “She says it was Kobee. She’s certain of it.”

Brandon looked at the thick glasses on the end table beside the chair. There was also an ashtray with what could only be a joint. Brandon looked around at all the potted plants and spotted one that was unmistakably a m*******a plant. “Ask her if she smokes pot?”

Naomi asked, and the woman replied sounding a bit excited. “She says yes. She has a medical m*******a card. She smokes it for her glaucoma.”

“Ask her if she was smoking when she saw him or before?”

Naomi asked. “Yes, she had just finished smoking just before she opened the window.”

“Was she wearing her glasses?” He only asked because he noticed she wasn’t wearing them now.

“No, she wasn’t.”

“So, she doesn’t use her glasses to watch TV.” He noticed the TV set was very close. “Ask her what her prescription is for?”

Naomi asked. “She said they are to correct farsightedness, but she stopped wearing them months ago when her glaucoma began to act up, says they were making her dizzy.”

So, she was farsighted, high, and she had glaucoma obstructing her view. From this window, he could see the alley clearly but in the dark on a dimly lit street with failing eyes and a joint in her system he had a hard time believing this woman could positively identify someone from one hundred feet away.

“Ask her how she could be sure it was Kobee?”

Naomi asked, and the woman went on a rant. “She says she’s seen him on the corner selling drugs. He’s outside around the alley all the time. She’s yelled at him a few times to get lost, or she’d call the cops. She says she knows his face and the face of all his hoodlum friends.”

“Ask her if she would be willing to come down to the police station and view a lineup.”

Naomi asked, and Mrs. Lou nodded and replied. “She says yes.”

“Great I’m going to arrange a lineup. I want to see her pick him out of a group. Tell her someone will be in contact with her tomorrow to arrange a time for her to come in and thank her for talking to us.” Naomi thanked Mrs. Lou and the left. They were back on the street when Brandon said. “I think that’s all for tonight.”

“I thought you wanted to speak with the victim’s family?” He still did, but after speaking to the witnesses and walking the crime scene, he felt it best to wait until after the lineup. He needed more evidence backing him before he put himself in a volatile situation.

“We will, but first I want to see what develops from the lineup.” He said as they headed north up the street. “I’ll walk you home.” As they walked through the neighbourhood, Brandon took mental notes of the area.

The majority of the shops were closing down; only a few stayed open late like the restaurants, the convenience store, and the gas station. The citizens of the neighbourhood were all heading in for the night, but the streets were not empty as the riffraff came out, filling the streets, gathering on stoops, and hanging out in cars and on street corners. All young, mostly male with the odd female among them; they were dressed like hoodlums smoking and drinking right out on the street, all eyes following Brandon as he walked at Naomi’s side.

He stood out among them, not just because he was white but because he was well off. His fine suit identified him as a businessman, and people in business had money. He could see the contemplation in some of their eyes, thinking, wondering if they could rob him and get away with it. While Brandon wasn’t necessarily a violent man, he was a big one. He stood six-foot-two and weighed two hundred pounds of solid muscle. Even beneath the tailored cut of his suit jacket, it was evident that Brandon had some strength.

Growing up with four brothers Brandon could take a beating and still get up and fight back. They might overwhelm him in numbers, but they certainly wouldn’t walk away unscratched. Besides his natural instinct to fight back, Brandon had a photographic memory, he could easily describe them to a police sketch artist and judging from the look of them he would bet they all had criminal records, it shouldn’t be hard for the cops to locate them and Brandon, being a lawyer, would make sure they were processed to the fullest extent of the law.

Brandon was a Sanchez, and as a Sanchez he was vindictive, connected, and powerful; he had the means to make or break people, with a few well-timed phone calls he could easily ruin a man’s life and though he didn’t like to do so he wasn’t above it. He would most defiantly be the wrong person to rob.

When they reached the restaurant, he was thankful to see his car was still there and untouched. “Do you live far?” He asked as they stood beside his car.

“No.” She said absentmindedly brushing a lock of midnight hair out of her dark, sensuous eyes. “My apartment is at the end of the block right there.” She pointed to the large apartment complex at the end of the street. “I can walk.”

“I’ll walk you to the door.” He wasn’t going to leave her alone on the streets at night with some killer stalking her neighbourhood.

“That’s not necessary.”

“I insist. I can’t allow anything to happen to my assistant.” He said with a playful smile. “Besides it would give me a chance to look at Kobee’s room. It will give me a better insight into who he is. Maybe there is something in there that can help me soften up the jury. Take him from a suspected killer to a human. If I can make him sympathetic, it could help.” In truth, he just wanted to spend a few more minutes with Naomi, and so far, the only thing she ever responded to was the case.

Naomi lived in a four story walk up with her parents and her brother. It wasn’t a security locked building, and Brandon was starting to wonder if any of the buildings in the neighbourhood were. They walked up to the third floor and halfway down the dimly lit hall to apartment 340. Naomi took out her keys and opened the door inviting him in. Her parents were still at the restaurant and wouldn’t be back for a few hours, so they were completely alone.

His male instincts told him to take advantage of the opportunity presented to him, but the professional in him was screaming that any such action would be unethical. Naomi was vulnerable with her brother’s future depending on his actions. He had power over her world and to take this attraction any farther while his actions could be influenced good or bad by her reaction or rejection of him was unscrupulous.

“His room is right there.” She said leading him down the short hall and pointing to the door to their left. “When he’s home he spends all his time in there.” She said stepping aside to let him by. The hallway was narrow and forced them close as he stepped sideways to slip past her. For the briefest of moments, he was close enough to smell the shampoo she used. It was something floral. He took a second to breathe her scent in before composing himself and stepping past her.

His hand closed around the doorknob and opened the door. Brandon stepped inside the small room and looked around. It was a dark room. The walls were painted a dark navy blue and covered in concert posters and gang tags. There was a Japanese flag hung across the window like a curtain. Shelves of CDs and DVDs with a large stereo and a small flat screen TV in the corner at the foot of the single bed next to the window.

There was a dresser with a lamp and vulgar stickers and pinup girl pictures. On top of the dresser were tons of loose paper with dark images sketched on most of them, almost like sample sheets one would see pinned to the wall of a tattoo parlour. Brandon picked them up and held them up for Naomi to see. “Does he have aspirations of becoming a tattoo artist?”

“So, he says, but he’s too young no one will hire him.” She said standing in the doorway watching him go through her brother’s thing.

Brandon looked over at the small plywood desk. There was a Mac laptop on the desktop. It seemed like an awfully expensive computer for a kid in his position. So, it was either stolen or bought with ill-gotten money. “How long has he had this?” He asked turning it on.

“He’s had it for a few weeks. We don’t know where he got it. He assures us it wasn’t stolen, but I don’t know if I believe him.”

Brandon started it up only to be locked out. It was password protected. What was he hiding? “Did the police search this room when they arrested him?” It would only make sense, they would be searching for the murder weapon, but from what he read in the police report they never found one. He was wondering why they didn’t take his computer. They must not have had a warrant that included it.

“Yes, they found a stack of porn under the mattress, a bong in the closet, and a bag of pot in his dresser drawer.”

“Enough to sell?”

“No, they classified it as personal use.”

Brandon made a thoughtful sound as he considered what she had said. “Do you know what his password might be?”

“No.”

Brandon continued to pace the room and stopped when the floorboard beneath his foot creaked. He looked down and stepped on that same spot again. Odd this particular floorboard had a little give. “Do you have a flat head screwdriver or a knife?”

Naomi left the room and returned with a kitchen knife. Brandon got down on one knee and used the blade of the knife to pry up the loose floorboard. Moving the displaced wood, he reached down into the floor and pulled out a large plastic bag filled with small individual bags of what he could only assume was pot and maybe cocaine. There was enough there to slap Kobee with a trafficking charge.

Naomi sighed and shook her head, a look of disappointment in her eyes. “I knew he was dealing.” It wasn’t a surprise, Kobee had admitted to Brandon and the cops that at the time of the murder he was selling dope out of some guy’s apartment, so he hadn’t lied about being a dealer. Though his evidence would only serve to further disappoint his parents, it confirmed in Brandon’s mind that Kobee, while misguided, was honest. If he wasn’t lying about the dealing, then he was more than likely telling the truth about his whereabouts.

So, if he was telling the truth about where he was and what he had been doing the question was why did his alibi deny he was ever there? Kobee said there were at least three people if not more that had seen him at the time of the murder but no one was coming forward, in fact, he was sure they were outright lying. Brandon could only assume it was because no one wanted to go down on a trafficking charge, and admitting he was there would mean admitting what they had been doing and that wouldn’t bode well for the members of the Black Dragons.

Brandon knew what he had to do. Somehow, he had to prove Kobee’s alibi. He wasn’t sure how he was going to do it, but it had to be done; which meant he had to talk to the Black Dragons Kobee claimed to be with. That was going to be an intense interview.

Brandon returned the drugs to the space beneath the floor. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He really should turn them over to the police but in doing so he would have to confess where he had gotten them and that would compromise his client. In this line of work ethics and confidentiality were often at war. He figured the best thing to do would be to leave them where he found them and hold his tongue. It was possible the dealer they belong to would come looking for it and if he didn’t find it things could get bloody. He handed the knife back to Naomi and returned the loose floorboard to its place then he got up and turned off the computer.

“Can I take this? I know someone that might be able to get past the password protection to see what he’s been hiding.” Naomi nodded, and he took the laptop and the power cord. There was nothing more he could do here so he might as well go home and get some sleep. He had a long day ahead of him tomorrow. “I’ll show myself out.” He said walking down the hall.

“I would like to be at the lineup tomorrow,” Naomi said as she followed him to the front door.

“I don't need you tomorrow.” He said stopping at the door.

“I would like to be present regardless.” She said adamantly. “As moral support for Kobee’s sake.”

“Ok.” He gave in. “Your parents will have to be there any way you may as well tag along.”

“Fantastic.” She smiled. “I’ll bring coffee.” She offered.

“Two creams and four sugars.” He said with a playful smile.

Naomi opened the door to show him out. She smiled up at him; she had a magnificent smile; it lit up the room. “Consider it done.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow with the time.” He said stepping out into the hall. “Good-night Naomi.” He said, and she closed the door. Brandon couldn’t help feeling like he’d lost an opportunity. He had to keep his mind on business and off Naomi’s fabulous dancer’s body. A cold shower when he got home would do him some good.