His face flushed. He blinked but said nothing.
“Let me guess. You didn’t want the principal to see the images. I’ve seen the pictures and the video, Luke. I know they’re bad, but remember, it isn’t me.”
He admitted, “I know they’re fake, but . . .” His cheeks reddened.
“It’s still embarrassing,” Bree finished. “I get it. But I’m going to tell her. She’s worried about you. Plus, she should know what Bobby was up to. Harassment is illegal, and I’m sure distributing pornography at school is against the rules.”
“OK, I guess.” Luke looked away. Looking a little relieved, he rubbed his horse’s neck. “Is it OK if I go for a ride?”
“Yeah. That’s a great idea.”
He went to the barn for a lead rope. Bree headed for the house. In the kitchen, Ladybug greeted her like a furry cannonball. Scratching the dog, Bree watched Luke bridle Riot, swing up onto his back like a TV cowboy, and ride across the meadow bareback. He’d been riding horses practically since he’d been born. He looked like a centaur. Without asking, she knew where he was going—the hilltop in the distance where they’d spread his mother’s ashes. It was the same place Bree went when she needed to feel Erin’s presence.
Bree called her brother, Adam, and gave him a quick summary of Luke’s suspension. “Do you have some time over the next few days to spend with Luke?”
“I’m headed to New York. The gallery manager wants to meet in person to talk about my latest painting.”
“Is that good?”
“I don’t know.” Adam’s laugh sounded nervous. “It’s different from my other work. Maybe he hates it.”
“I think it’s the best piece you’ve ever done,” Bree said.
“Thanks. I guess we’ll see,” Adam said in a resigned voice. “How about I take Luke with me?”
Bree hesitated. Adam used to be very removed from everyone—including her and the kids. Since their sister died, Bree had asked him to be more involved in the kids’ lives, and Adam had delivered. She needed to trust him. Plus, a guys’ trip with Adam could soothe the sting of not being able to go camping with his friends. “I think he might like that.”
“Great,” Adam said in a more cheerful tone. “I’ll call him.”
“Thank you, Adam.”
“You don’t have to thank me. We’re family.”
“Yes, we are.” Bree ended the call, feeling more hopeful. No matter what happened with her job, she had her family, Dana, and Matt. She would be OK.
Dana stood in the middle of the kitchen, her hands on her hips. “Well?”
Bree filled her in.
“Rotten little fuckers,” Dana said. “Deepfake and revenge porn are new ways to abuse women, to take away their power.”
“This could literally happen to any woman.”
“You need to get your power back.”
“Suggestions for doing that?” Bree asked.
“I’d do another press conference. Reveal what’s happening. Name names.”
“Can’t.” Bree shook her head. “It’s part of an active murder investigation. I’ve already been accused of orchestrating Oscar’s death to conceal corruption. Imagine if I went public with the knowledge that Oscar died shortly after uploading those deepfake images. Plus, we don’t know where the videos came from yet. Oscar didn’t make them. He just shared them. Matt has some suspicions but no evidence to back them up.”
“Then find out who made them.” Dana mashed her lips flat. “Think of how many other women will be targeted. Do you want them to be too embarrassed to stop it? Should they just suffer in silence because their abuser found a new way to hurt them?”
“No,” Bree admitted with reluctance. “I know you’re right, but I can’t go public with the suspects and motives in an active investigation.”
“I know you can’t, but you need to crush some nuts and shut it down.”
Bree’s phone vibrated and she glanced at it. “It’s Matt. I have to get back to work. I’ve been ignoring him for the last thirty minutes.”
“You go. I’ll take care of Luke.” Dana turned toward the refrigerator. “I’ll make some of his favorite foods tonight: chicken parm and lemon bars.”
“Thank you for the one thousandth time. I don’t know how I would manage to give these kids a decent home without you. You provide the stability they need.”
Dana’s eyes went misty. “Yeah, well, the appreciation goes both ways. I was so busy kicking asses, I didn’t take the time to have kids.” Dana had been married and quickly divorced twice. “Thanks for sharing yours.”
“For someone who never had kids, you’re a hell of a mom.” Bree grabbed her phone and headed for the door. On the way to her SUV, she called Matt. “I’m sorry. I needed to focus on Luke. Now I’m headed to Morgan Dane’s office. What’s up?”
“Have you seen the news?”
Bree’s stomach sank. “No. Why?”
“Paris Vickers is calling for your resignation.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Still digesting the Crightons’ accusations, Bree parked in front of a duplex near the business district of Scarlet Falls. The first-floor unit housed the offices of Morgan Dane, Attorney at Law, and Sharp Investigations. Bree had been here once before, to interview Lincoln Sharp during a previous case.
Bree entered the building, and Morgan Dane greeted her in the foyer of what once had been an apartment. Tall and slim, the lawyer wore a pale blue silk blouse and a single strand of pearls. Her long dark hair hung to her shoulders in elegant waves. The way she enhanced her femininity in a tasteful way reminded Bree of Stephanie Crighton. Did they teach dressing for success in law school? Or was it a learn-by-doing activity? Either way, standing next to Morgan, Bree felt awkward in her bulky body armor under her uniform, thick duty belt, and practical shoes. However, Bree did have a handgun, collapsible baton, and handcuffs handy.
“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.”