Attorney-Client Privilege by Pamela Samuels Young Read Free Book Online

The cops still had the house cordoned off as a crime scene and Phillip had no place else to go. His newest sugar mama was usually good for some quick cash. But now that Judi was dead, they both agreed that it was best to lay low for a while.
    Phillip couldn’t believe how fast everything had spun so far out of his control. Sure, he’d wanted out of his relationship with Judi, but it wasn’t supposed to go down like this. He just hoped he could collect on her insurance sooner rather than later.
    He snatched the phone from the bed and hit redial. Still pacing across the room in a trance-like state, Phillip hadn’t heard the voice on the other end of the phone. He stumbled to a stop. “Harold, is that you?”
    “Do you realize there’s a friggin’ nine-hour time difference between L.A. and Paris?” Harold Gold barked, his usual arrogant self even when half asleep. “You better have a good reason for blowing up my phone.”
    Phillip fell into a cushionless chair in the corner of the room. “I need a favor, man. A really big one.”
    “I’m not giving you another dime.”
    “I don’t need a loan. Did you get a call from a detective?”
    “A detective? Why would a detective call me?”
    “Judi was murdered,” he said, his voice quivering. “They think I did it.”
    A bolt of silence shot through the line.
    “Are you still there?”
    “Yeah, I’m here,” Harold said tentatively. “Well…did you?”
    “How could you even ask me that? Of course not.”
    “Okay, okay,” Harold said, annoyed. “I’m sorry for your loss. So what can I do for you?”
    Phillip wished he could reach into the phone and grab the little shit by the throat. As soon as he was out of this fix, he was firing this pompous asshole. Harold hadn’t gotten him a decent gig in months.
    “I need you to cover for me. I told the cops I spent the night at your place last night.”
    “What? Why in the hell did you do that?”
    “Just cover for me, okay?”
    “Are you nuts? No way I’m lying to the police,” Harold sputtered. “And why would you need me to lie for you if you didn’t do it?”
    “I swear I didn’t kill Judi. You have to do this for me, man. I really need you to help me out.”
    “Since we both know you weren’t at my place, where were you?”
    Phillip paused. He couldn’t tell anyone where he’d really been. That would open up a can of worms that would further complicate his predicament.
    “I can’t say, right now. Anyway, the less you know the better. But please, man, can you cover for me?”
    “No way.”
    Phillip lowered his head and massaged his temples. If Harold didn’t back him up, he was screwed.
    “Okay, okay,” Phillip said. “You don’t have to lie. But how about this? Can you just screen your calls? If the cops leave you a message, don’t return it. Maybe by the time you get back, they’ll have Judi’s killer.”
    “I don’t like that idea either. What if they—”
    “Man, please,” Phillip begged. “Just don’t answer your phone. You won’t be committing a crime by not calling the cops back. If they do reach you, they’ll probably want you to come back home and give a statement.”
    “That’s bull. I’m not cutting my vacation short because of you.”
    “Then don’t answer your phone,” Phillip pleaded.
    It took another five minutes of begging before Harold agreed to go along. Phillip just prayed he didn’t change his mind. That would buy him a few weeks.
    Phillip was up and pacing again. Now he had to figure out what he was going to do about his second, much bigger problem. If the police got a sample of his DNA, there was a good possibility it would match what they’d found underneath Judi’s fingernails. He stared into the dresser mirror, still pissed at what Judi had done to his face. As soon as he got some money he was going to get a chemical peel to make sure there was no permanent scarring.
    It was stupid of him to have claimed that the scratches came from a tree