“It’s none of your business,” Emily hissed at Amy. “If you think I’m going to sit down and talk to the police, you are even crazier than Brian is!”

Amy nodded, watching two officers climb the stairs. Brian breezed right by both young men, smiling as he went, making it to the Maserati before they made it up the first flight of stairs. As per Amy’s expectations, not so much as a second look was turned to the business executive. Why would they? His yearly salary could support their wages if not four Newport Beach officers. You’d be crazy to think the Newport Beach police would cross businesspeople who could fund their department for the next ten years and not lose one minute of sleep over it. “In ten seconds, you will explain why you had your boyfriend’s key fob. He may not have called the police, but he has more to gain from that call than you do. As it is? You’ll face grand theft charges for not returning it.”

“Ha! Brian press charges? He’s a complete moron. He’d never be that stupid.”

“Emily? I’m an attorney. I’ve seen cases held over for trial in Newport Beach for less. And if you have enough cash? You can hold up any judgment until you get your way. Too often,” she kept herself from saying the word ‘men,’ “people get away with more than they should.”

“You are on his side? That’s rich!” Emily screamed. Two young officers, hardly old enough to consume alcoholic beverages, walked to the two women. “Good morning, Ms. Kurt,” one of the officers addressed her. Before Amy knew what had happened, the better-looking of the two men asked, “Emily? Is that you?”

“Do I know you?” she huffed. Even the disgusted tone in her voice felt adopted from the overall attitude of the wealthy in Orange County.

“Yes. Well. I mean,  you did. Once upon a time.” Cody thought the storybook line was a good one. His partner, Terry, wasn’t as confident as Cody. “We went to high school together. You remember? Back in Sandpoint, Idaho.”

Emily rolled her eyes. “I’ve never been to Idaho.” The tone of her voice felt like that squeal chalk would sometimes make if you held it at a funny angle. Amy’s teeth were on edge, to begin with. Emily’s snide remarks weren’t helping her oncoming headache. “I grew up in Laguna Niguel with my Mother and Father.”

“Um, no, Emily. You grew up in northern Idaho, 30 minutes from Newport. Newport, Washington. But your mom worked in the Sandpoint Piper Diner. Dad was a part-time lumberjack and a truck driver. The only thing more poor than you and your family was dirt. But, hey, you want to deny your past, far be it from me. I work here, a state employee, protecting and serving people like you.” Terry stood back, elbows resting on his utility belt. Terry was smirking, doing his best to not embarrass his younger partner. Terry looked almost as young as Cody, but Officer Terry Jones was a veteran of the Newport Beach Police Department. He spent the last ten years as a detective, choosing to step down to patrolman to be home with his family. Cody finished speaking, and Officer Jones spoke up.

“I’m Officer Jones. This young hothead here,” he pointed to Cody, “is Officer Hartlin. We got a report of a disturbance outside the law offices of Vrbinski, Neil, and Kurt.” Jones saw Emily trying to scrub away the red and puffiness from her cheeks. It wasn’t working, but still, she tried.

Amy stepped up to Officer Jones, “Yes, Officer Jones. I’m Amy Kurt, one of the partners at the law firm. What exactly was reported to you?”

Hartlin stepped up to Amy, even though he wasn’t more than six inches taller than her. He tried to intimidate her by forcing his feet down in his black combat boots. It didn’t work. It looked more like he was forcing the ground under his feet. Jones didn’t get a chance to reply, Hartlin jumping in. “We had a report of a male and a female arguing. What do you know about this, Ms. Kurt?”

“I saw Emily standing right where she is and a well-dressed gentleman walking down the stairs. I guess he passed you when you were coming up? He got into a Maserati, I think, and drove away.”

“You have to tell us what you saw. Otherwise,” Hartlin did his best to stare down Amy, “we’ll be taking you both downtown.”

“Cody, Newport Beach doesn’t have a downtown.”

Hartlin’s face turned red. “You know what I mean,” he said.

Jones directed his attention to Emily. “You want to tell me what happened here, miss?”

“Nothing happened,” she spat. Turning her back to Officer Jones, she squeezed Amy’s hand. “I was talking to Ms. Kurt about representing me,” she said, widening her eyes. “Isn’t that right, Ms. Kurt?”

“We were discussing an appointment time, yes,” she squeezed Emily’s hand back, “but we hadn’t settled on a date or time. Just discussing the possibilities.”

“Didn’t you tell me you just came out of your office? Because of the commotion?”

“No. I came out to wait for another client.”

“What is that client’s name?”

“Now, Officer Jones. You know I cannot divuldge that to you. Not unless you have,” both Officer Jones and Amy said in unison, “a court order.”

“Fair enough. Well, I don’t see anyone fighting. Nothing broken. I’d say we’re done here, Officer Hartlin.”

“But she’s lying!” Hartlin shouted. “You know she is!”

“I don’t. Neither do you. Besides that, it doesn’t matter. There isn’t a domestic.”

Cody pouted. “Fine.”

“Well then, Ms. Kurt, Emily, have a good day.” He touched Cody’s shoulder, pushing him back to the stairs. “Let’s go, Officer Hartlin.”

Hartlin protested, resisting his partner’s prodding. “But she’s lying!”

“Well, if anything else happens while we’re on shift? Then we’ll come back. Ms. Kurt,” he turned around long enough to hand her a business card, “that’s my contact information. If you hear of anything else, feel free to call me.”

“I will, Officer Jones. I’m sure it’s all under control now,” she shot Emily a look. “Have a good day, Officers.”