Her voice was cold. “I found the money.”
Another silence. “What did you say, Sophie?”
“I found the money, you son of a bitch. Where did you get it? Drug deals? Roughing up business owners to pay for protection? I bet it’s dirty as hell.”
“I can explain—”
“Don’t even try. I should hand it over to the police.”
“What the fuck, Sophie? That’s my money!”
“Your money? Why the hell did you keep it in my office? I’m not a goddamn bank!”
“Sophie, listen to me. I gotta get some things in place, then I’ll be right over. I’ll take everything away, okay? I’ll take care of everything.”
Her voice cracked. “I don’t want to see you.”
“Please, Sophie. Stay there, okay? You don’t want to go to the cops, believe me. Don’t get us in trouble like that. Stay there.”
Overwhelmed, she hung up the phone with a shaking hand. Somehow she managed to call the next two clients on her schedule and cancel their appointments. She wanted to avoid bringing them anywhere near the thug who’d be visiting her soon.
She was frozen by indecision. Should she call the police? Although she disagreed with several aspects of the way her parents had raised her, they’d done a superb job of teaching her right and wrong. And keeping quiet about the money would definitely be wrong. But if she involved the authorities, she’d likely have to come clean about her ethical breach of sleeping with a client. She felt even sicker thinking about that.
Sophie wasn’t sure how much time had elapsed when a sharp knock jarred her out of her overwrought trance. Logan had arrived, and she hadn’t called the police yet. Evidently she’d be doing the wrong thing a bit longer.
She strode to the door, expecting to meet those troubled blue eyes, but she was surprised to find three men waiting for her instead.
“Dr. Sophie Taylor?” asked a man in a business suit, flanked by two uniformed officers. “I’m Detective Mike Kozlowski. We have a warrant to search your office.”
Sophie’s face froze. She gaped at the paper he held up. So that’s what a warrant looked like.
“Step aside, ma’am,” the detective added, pushing forward into the office.
Sophie glanced at the sofa, which was littered with cash-filled envelopes.
Detective Kozlowski followed her gaze, then gave a triumphant smile to the officers behind him. “Ah, the motherload.”
“That’s not my money!” Sophie sounded frantic. “A client brought that in here!”
The detective looked suspicious. “What’s your client’s name?”
She hesitated. “I …”
“Take her outta here, Holloway, while we finish the search.”
Officer Holloway reached for her arm. “Let’s go, Doc.”
“My, my charts,” she protested.
“We’ll take good care of them,” the detective responded condescendingly.
Sophie squirmed in the brawny officer’s hold. “That’s confidential information in there!” The officer ignored her protests and guided her toward the break room down the hall. Sophie blushed furiously as Jacki curiously peeked out her office door.
After about fifteen minutes, the other officer entered the break room. “Both of you need to come with me,” he said.
Sophie walked to her office with one officer in front of her and one behind her. She gasped when she entered the room. Lying on her desk were five handguns.
Her eyes as wide as saucers, her trembling voice inquired, “W-w-where did you get those?”
Detective Kozlowski eyed her skeptically. “I found them behind your desk.”
“What?” she asked shrilly, taking a step toward the desk. Officer Holloway forcibly pulled her back, and she began to realize the gravity of the situation.
“Those are loaded weapons,” Kozlowski growled. “Where did they come from?”
“I’ve never seen them in my life. I promise.” Sophie’s stomach dropped as she realized Logan had hidden more than money in her office.
“You’re still not talking, Doctor? What’s the name of this supposed client?” Detective Koslowski’s tone was snide.
Sophie inhaled sharply. “You’re not suggesting the guns and money are mine, are you?”
“We don’t know what’s going on yet,” Koslowski said. “One thing I do know is you’re under arrest. We’ll sort this out at the station.”
She stood between the officers with a glassy stare. She barely heard her Miranda rights as Officer Holloway frisked and cuffed her. It was all a blur, a sickening haze. She was led out of her office and paraded down the hallway, past her esteemed colleagues’ offices and the disapproving stares of clients in the waiting room.
“Whoa” was all Hunter could say once she finished. “I guess you came forward with Logan’s name after you were arrested?”
Sophie cleared her throat. “Yes. My attorney told me confidentiality didn’t apply because it was probably a Tarasoff situation, so I finally caved. Giving them Logan’s name made it possible for me to plead the charges down to accessory. If they’d proven aiding and abetting, I’d have gone away for a long stretch. Turns out one of the guns was used in a murder.” She shuddered.
“But how could they prove those charges?” Hunter asked. “Wasn’t it obvious the money and guns weren’t yours? That you just got mixed up with the wrong man?”
“It was the way I got mixed up with the wrong man. Once they found out I’d slept with Logan, they really started going after me.”
“How did they find that out?”
Sophie pressed her lips together, looking off to the side. “I told them.”
Hunter stared at her for a few moments.
“I wanted to do the right thing after I’d so royally screwed up everything,” she said. My attorney was livid. He said I’d have no credibility in front of a jury once they found out I’d behaved so unethically.”
“Jesus,” Hunter said. “I’m taking notes on all of this, you know, to prevent something like this from happening to me.”
She smiled grimly. “I’m glad somebody can learn from my mistakes.”
He glanced at his watch. “Sophie, I’m sorry to end our session abruptly, but we are out of time.”
“That’s okay. It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”
“I’m glad, but I know it must be rough all the same. Next week we’ll talk about your father.”
“We will?”
“Yes. We’re working to connect your family experiences to your current struggles.”
Sophie recognized her own words repeated by her psychologist, and he winked. “I want to do my best work with you, Sophie. We’re going to make sense of why you did what you did, okay?”
She nodded and rose to leave, feeling a bit drained. She had a long day of cruises ahead of her, and she needed some energy to make it through. A warm smile from Grant would help immensely, if only he were not so distant these days.
As she left the office building, she ruminated on Hunter’s belief that she was a caretaker to the extreme. She was determined to try to do better.
Caretaker, she mused. Logan had certainly taken care of her. He’d taken care of her career, her ethics, her self-respect, her dignity. With an acrid bitterness in her heart, she headed toward the docks.
18. Fucking Carrots