Bree must have looked doubtful.
“The images and story are titillating.” Morgan swiveled her chair. “A female sheriff appearing in pornography? That’s fantasy fodder. The less reputable news agencies will continue to share the video and pictures as long as they generate interest and activity. By suing anyone who publishes them, we cause them to incur legal expenses. We have to make sharing the images cost more than the clicks they generate are worth.”
“That’s depressing,” Bree said.
Morgan sat back. “That’s reality.”
Bree knew she was right. “OK.”
“So, we’re doing this?” Lance asked.
“Yes.” Bree nodded. There was no point hiring and paying for the best attorney in the area if you weren’t going to take her advice.
Lance rose. “I’m going to call my mom and get her started with tracing the deepfakes.” He excused himself and left the office.
Assuming the meeting was over, Bree shifted forward, preparing to stand.
“I’d like to talk about another matter.” Morgan drummed her fingers on the desktop.
“Okaaaay.” Bree settled herself back in the chair. She sensed she wasn’t going to like where the conversation was headed.
“The video isn’t my only concern.” Morgan leaned forward again. “Regarding the other piece from Paris Vickers and the Daily Grind, the interview with Bernard Crighton and his daughter, the lawyer—”
“I’m not resigning,” Bree interrupted.
“No. Of course not,” Morgan said. “But you do have a conflict of interest with the Eugene Oscar murder investigation.”
Bree blew out a hard breath.
Morgan continued. “Eugene Oscar worked for the sheriff’s department. You and he had a conflict. Regardless of the labeling of his exit from the department as retirement, it’s known among enough people that you forced him out.”
“There’s a paper trail of misconduct,” Bree protested.
Morgan shook her head. “Which is irrelevant to the discussion.”
Bree’s instinct was to argue, but she was paying for the lawyer’s advice. So Bree shut her mouth and listened.
Morgan tapped a forefinger on the desk. “To make matters worse, if Oscar is the one who uploaded the deepfakes, then you have a personal motive as well as a professional one.”
“We didn’t know about the deepfakes until after he was dead. The computer forensics tech discovered them on Oscar’s computer.”
“I understand. But that is impossible for you to prove, and it’s terrible optics. If it’s leaked to the media—and there are always leaks—you’ll be eviscerated on social media.”
The word optics made Bree grind her molars. “I just want to do my job.”
“I come from a family in law enforcement, so I do understand your perspective,” Morgan commiserated. “Love it or hate it, social media is our new reality. We must make decisions with it in mind.”
Bree exhaled. Did she really have to step away from the investigation? Worse, call the State Police Bureau of Criminal Investigations and hand over her case?
Morgan softened her voice. “Think of it from the family’s perspective. You had a major disagreement with Oscar barely two months ago.”
“I only wanted him out of my department.”
“You tried to have him charged.” Morgan held up a hand. “I know. Officially, he retired, but everyone knows.”
“He rendered our evidence inadmissible, but we weren’t able to prove he’d done so intentionally.” Bree had been able to prove only incompetence.
“And he got away with it,” Morgan pointed out. “Doesn’t that make you mad?”
“It’s annoying, sure, but he’s out of my hair now . . .” Bree stopped herself. From an objective perspective, she had plenty of motivation to kill Oscar.
Morgan continued: “Now he’s dead, and you’re in charge of his murder investigation.”
Damn it. Morgan was right. Deep down, Bree had known she was too close. She just hadn’t wanted to admit it.
Morgan tilted her head. “Also, there’s the risk that Bernard Crighton and his daughter will push their agenda until the case is taken from you. It’s far better for you to be the one instigating the turnover rather than having the investigation ripped out from under you.”
She made an excellent point.
“You’re right.” Bree emptied her lungs in a hard whoosh. “As much as it kills me to do so, I’ll recuse myself from the investigation. I’ll call BCI today and ask them to take over.”
Morgan nodded her approval. “Put out a press release.”
Bree exhaled. “I will.”
“I’d like to read the statement before you make it,” Morgan added.
Bree raised a brow.
Morgan’s lips curved. “I’m very good with PR.”
“I do not enjoy dealing with the media,” Bree admitted.
“Well, then, all the more reason to run the press release past me.” Morgan’s smile broadened.
“All right.” Bree sighed, but she felt marginally better about the situation. Morgan Dane exuded both confidence and common sense. The situation still sucked, but Bree would get through it. She’d had worse. This wasn’t the first case she’d had to give to another investigator. She’d live. “Is there anything else I need to do? What about the photo of me and Matt Flynn?”
“Are you involved in a relationship with him?” Morgan asked.
“Yes.”
“Do you intend to continue that relationship?”
“Yes,” Bree answered.
“Then we will be assertive about your right to date whomever you choose.”
Saying it out loud, with no reservations, made her realize that she’d made a choice. Not long ago, she had lived for her work, with no one to share her life but her cranky tomcat. Now she had a life worth living. She’d sacrificed and fought for happiness. She would not give it up. “If it boils down to a choice, then I choose him over the job.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come down to that.” Morgan pursed her lips. “Before this business with the deepfakes, you had an excellent reputation. People really like you. You generally have great PR. Let’s focus on the other legal issues for now. Then we’ll figure out how we can spin your relationship with Matt into something positive that the community will embrace.”
Spin, another word that gave Bree heartburn. “What do I say if I’m asked?”
“The truth. Matt isn’t employed by the county. You’re dating. End of story. You have a direct, no-bullshit gaze. Use it.”
Bree nodded. “Anything else?”
“I can’t think of anything at the moment, but I’ll call you if I do. Please don’t hesitate to call my cell if you need me.” Morgan wrote a number on a business card and handed it to Bree. “I’ll keep you informed on the progress with the deepfakes.”
Bree rose and held out a hand. “Thank you.”
“You are very welcome.”
They shook hands over the desk.
Bree didn’t ask for a cost estimate. What was the point? She needed them.
She left the office and slid into her vehicle. On the way back to the station, Bree made the call to BCI. As she discussed the case and made arrangements for the files to be picked up that afternoon, she felt less confident about the case surrender. It wasn’t in her nature to give up.
The murder investigation was now out of her control. All she could do was hope her decision didn’t come back to bite her on the ass.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Matt paced as he waited for Bree in the conference room. He’d pressured her to stop hiding their relationship. Being accused of impropriety was exactly the reason she’d wanted to be discreet. But he hadn’t wanted to sneak around. He wanted more from a relationship. Companionship, friendship, loyalty, sex.
He wanted it all.
Had he been selfish?
Was this his fault?
Bree was the first person he’d met in his life with whom he felt the kind of connection that could lead to a lifetime commitment. He’d never even considered it before. But she made him want more.
She walked into the conference room, closed the door, and sank into a chair. Propping her elbows on her knees, she dropped her head into her hands. “We’re giving up the case.”