Chapter 297

The officers regarded me with a hint of distaste. I could see it in the way they looked me up and down, like I was a thoughtless woman sleeping with a public enemy.

I nearly sighed with relief when Timothy's hand found its way to my shoulder, a silent reassurance.

"What's going on now?" Timothy's voice carried a note of frustration as he stepped closer.

The first officer, Rodriguez, met our gazes before delivering the unwelcome news. "We have a warrant to search the premises, Mr. Hayes. It's part of the ongoing investigation."

I turned to Timothy, our eyes locking in silent acknowledgment. Without a word, we stepped aside, allowing the officers entry.

They moved systematically, sweeping through each room with a thoroughness that left no corner untouched. I watched nervously as they rifled through drawers, examined personal belongings, and scrutinized every inch of the apartment. It felt invasive, as if our lives were laid bare for their judgment.

"Is this really necessary?" Timothy's frustration laced his question as he followed the officers from room to room with me trailing behind him.

"We're just following procedure, Mr. Hayes," Officer Mitchell replied, his tone indifferent.

I bit my lip, resisting the urge to speak out against the intrusion. The officers had a job to do, and our protests wouldn't change that. Besides, it wasn’t like we had anything to hide.

Finally, they converged in the living room, their gaze fixed on Timothy. The tension in the air grew palpable as Officer Rodriguez began questioning him again.

"Mr. Hayes, on the night you shot Bruce, did you have a license for the gun you used?"

Timothy's brows furrowed as he processed the question. "Yes, I do. I have the papers for it. Hold on." He went to retrieve the necessary documents, his expression tense.

I stood off to the side, a silent observer since it seemed best just to keep my thoughts to myself. My mind, however, wandered to a different concern. As Timothy searched for the papers, I couldn't shake the thought of the gun in my mother's purse.

Did she have a license to carry it? Was it even hers? The questions swirled in my mind, a nagging worry that added to the complexity of our already screwed up situation.

Timothy returned, handing over the required documents. The officers inspected them carefully, their expressions revealing nothing. I couldn't help but feel a sense of relief – at least this part of their scrutiny could be easily addressed.

Timothy's frustration lingered, his eyes locking onto mine as if seeking solace. I took a step closer and took his hand.

"Where's the gun, Mr. Hayes?" Officer Rodriguez probed, his tone accusatory.

Timothy shot him a steely glare. "I already told you, I don't know. I haven't seen it since the night I shot Bruce."

"Well, it just conveniently disappears, doesn't it?" Officer Mitchell sneered, his tone dripping with skepticism.

I couldn't hold back any longer. "Why wasn't the gun found on the scene, then? It should have been there when forensics came in. Timothy dropped it after Bruce shot him back and it’s not like he could’ve went back for it in his condition."

The officers exchanged a knowing look before Officer Rodriguez spoke, "It was missing by the time forensics arrived. Someone had removed it from the scene."

My suspicion heightened. Someone was manipulating the narrative on purpose.

"Are we finished here?" Timothy asked, his voice steady but with an underlying edge of frustration.

Officer Mitchell smirked, a condescending tone in his response. "Maybe. Why so eager to make us leave?”

Officer Rodriguez nudged Timothy with one hand, and Timothy scowled at him as his stance turned defensive. “Don’t touch me.”

“Come on, Hayes. We were just getting started."

I felt a surge of anger at their veiled threats, and without thinking, I stepped forward, placing myself between Timothy and the officers. "He has rights, and you need to respect them."

The officers exchanged glances, their expressions unyielding. "We're just doing our job, ma'am. No need to make a fuss."

"No need to make a fuss?" I shot back, my frustration boiling over. "You're accusing him of something he didn't do. He has rights, and you can't lay a finger on him without evidence."

Timothy took my arm and pulled me back. "Evie, it's okay. Let them go."

I held my ground, determined to stare them down and report them if they tried anything. "Then they should go already."

The officers, seemingly unfazed by my protests, made their way to the door. As they passed, Rodriguez couldn't resist a parting shot. "Watch your step, Hayes. We'll be watching."

“Yeah, we’ll leave you alone. For now,” Officer Mitchell said finally, tucking his hands in his pockets as he turned away. “But let me or my guys catch you with any sort of firearm and you’re going under the jail.”

With a final dismissive glance, they left the apartment, leaving Timothy and me standing in the wake of their intrusion. The rain outside intensified.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

He nodded, a tight smile playing on his lips. "I'll be fine."

"I can stay with you until you leave for hockey practice," I offered. “I don’t like how they just popped up here like that, even if they’re allowed.”

Timothy shook his head, a weariness settling in. "I appreciate it, Evie, but I think it's best if you go to work. I don't want you falling behind at the firm."

Reluctantly, I nodded, still gripping his arm. "Fine. But I won't sit idly by. I’ll do my own research while I’m there."

He cupped my cheek. "I know you want to help, Evie. Just be careful. We don't know who we can trust right now. Besides…"

I paused, waiting for him to finish his sentence. He seemed hesitant at first, casting a glance to the side.

“What? What happened?”

“I, uh…” He shook his head. "I'm on suspension for the time being until things blow over."

My eyes widened in disbelief. "Suspension? They can't just sideline you like that. What about your career?"

"I don't have much of a choice, Evie. It's a precautionary measure until the investigation is resolved," he explained.

Anger surged within me. "This is unfair, Timothy. They're treating you like you're guilty before anything is proven."

He gave me a reassuring smile. "It's temporary. Once this is all sorted out, I'll be back on the ice. Just focus on your work for now, and we'll get through this together."

I left the apartment reluctantly, the weight of the situation heavy on my shoulders. As I drove to my office, my mind raced with thoughts of the missing gun, the antagonistic officers, and Timothy's suspension.

As I entered the firm, the atmosphere felt stiflingly normal. Colleagues went about their tasks, seemingly unaffected by the storm brewing in my personal life.

In between tending to legal matters and exchanging pleasantries with my colleagues, I found a moment of solitude in my office. The rain outside provided a soothing backdrop as I contemplated my next move. I needed answers, and it was clear that I was going to have to take matters into my own hands.

After settling down at my desk, I dialed Quinton's number. He answered after a couple of rings, his voice calm and collected.

"Evie, what's going on?" Quinton inquired.

"I need to talk to you, Quinton. Can we meet and discuss a few things?" I asked, my tone urgent.

"Alright," he replied. “Just give me the location.”