Nicole Richie - Priceless

The FBI agent nodded. “Yes. Your father hasn’t actually answered any questions or spoken to agents from any of the agencies involved yet, although we hope he will. If he wishes to prove his innocence, he’s going to need to talk to us.”

Charlotte’s expression remained calm. “I imagine he’ll do whatever he deems most sensible.” She stood. “Now, gentlemen, I assume you need something from me, or you wouldn’t be here. How can I help you?”

The cop pulled out a piece of paper. “We have a warrant to search your father’s study. The warrant allows us to remove his computers, his files, and any other materials we consider pertinent to our investigation.”

Charlotte took the piece of paper and folded it without looking. “I’ll need to consult with my attorney, of course. Will you gentlemen excuse me while I call him?”

Once outside the door, Charlotte ran for the bathroom and made it just in time. Resting her clammy forehead on the sink, she unfolded the paper and looked at it. It was, as they had said, a search warrant for her dad’s study. It was signed by a judge she knew, one who’d eaten in their home several times. Traitor. It was probably only a matter of time before they searched the whole place. Her room. Her closet. She retched again and waited there a while until she felt composed.

Wiping her mouth, she looked at herself in the mirror. A little pale. She pinched her cheeks and opened her eyes wide. Pull yourself together, Charlotte. She entered her father’s study and called the lawyer.

“Arthur?” The line wasn’t very good, and it sounded as if he wasn’t alone.

“Charlotte? Are you at the apartment?”

“There are police here, Arthur, with a warrant for Dad’s study.”

The lawyer sighed. She’d known Arthur Bedford all her life, and she’d never heard him sound stressed before. “Your father has been accused of some very serious crimes, Charlotte, and the FBI and the SEC are totally within their rights to search the apartment.”

Charlotte looked out the window. Everyone was carrying on as normal. Tourists were climbing into horse-drawn carriages. Children were playing. Did no one realize the world had ended?

“The warrant only covers the study. I’m in it right now. No smoking guns. No piles of cash.”

Arthur had lost his sense of humor. “Don’t touch anything, Charlotte. Don’t take anything out.”

She frowned. “Why would I, Arthur? The sooner they clear this all up, the sooner we can sue them for defamation of character.”

Another sigh. This was beginning to make her feel anxious.

“Dad is innocent, right, Arthur?”

“Charlotte, I wish I knew.” She heard the sound of louder voices. “Let’s talk in an hour or so, OK?”

She stood there a moment, lightly touching the things on her father’s desk. His laptop was there. A detachable flash drive. Keys to his files. Nothing was hidden, no secrets there. Fine. Let them come.

She collected the key to her father’s study from Greta and went back into the library. She decided to address Dale, the FBI agent.

“My lawyer advises me that my father wants to see me. Will that be allowed?”

Surprisingly, Dale turned to Scarsford.

Charlotte raised one eyebrow. “I thought the FBI was holding my father?”

Scarsford looked annoyed at Dale, briefly. “They are, but the SEC began the investigation. I’m the lead investigator.”

Charlotte started to feel the tiniest flicker of anger, deep within her fear. “Gentlemen, let me be crystal-clear. You think my father is guilty of something. You think he is a criminal. But I assume your suspicions don’t extend to me?”

A short pause, each waiting for the other to catch the ball.

“Or do they?”

The cop caught it. “Not at this time, Miss Williams. The investigation is just beginning.”

“I thought your case was watertight? That’s what you’ve told the media. You’ve hung my father before you’ve even begun? That’s not very sporting of you, is it?”

She walked to the window and looked out for a moment, composing herself and pulling together every ounce of inner strength she possessed. She wanted her father to walk through the door, laughing, telling everyone what a good joke this had been. But when she turned back to the investigators, she looked as if she were serving tea rather than an ultimatum.

“If at any time during this investigation I feel I am not being treated with the utmost respect or that I am being deliberately misled in any way, I will cause problems for each and every one of you that will make you wish you had not been born. My father and my family are connected at the highest levels of government, of society, and internationally. Please remember that you have been welcomed into my home and treated with civility. Do me the courtesy of extending the same civility.”

She took a deep breath.

“Now, will whoever’s in charge please answer my simple question: May I see my father?”

Scarsford smiled. “Of course, Charlotte.” “Miss Williams.”

The smile didn’t wobble. “Miss Williams, sorry. Once our people have begun to search your father’s study, I will take you to him myself.”

“Very well.” She extended the key to him. “Here is what you need. Nothing has been disturbed or removed since my father left for work this morning. We have nothing to hide.” She looked Scarsford in the eye. “Can you say the same, Mr. Scarsford?”

He flushed.

It was actually an hour before they could leave the apartment, and during that time, Charlotte was able to talk to Emily on the phone. Emily seemed more amused than anything.

“It’s just ridiculous, Charlotte! There are photos of your dad on CNN, for crying out loud. And not very flattering ones, either.”

Charlotte made a face. “That’s hardly a problem right now, Emily. When this is all cleared up, I’ll make sure to update their file photo, OK?”

Emily was unchastened. “Well, he looks heavy, is all I’m saying.” She giggled. “Maybe he’ll be like Martha Stewart and get in shape in jail.”

“Emily.” Charlotte’s tone was sharp. “Don’t even joke about it. It’s not funny.”

She could hear her friend pouting. “It is a little bit funny, Charlotte. It’s silly. Why on earth would your dad steal money when he’s so wealthy? The po-po are so stupid.”

Charlotte happened to be looking at Detective Mallory as Emily said this, and she thought she’d rarely seen a man who looked less stupid, but there you go.

“Shall I come and visit you?” Emily sounded giddy. “I can wear dark glasses and cover my head with a shawl and creep in.”

“Don’t you dare, Emily. Stay away so you don’t get dragged in the mud, too. Besides, I’m going to see Dad soon, so I won’t be here much longer.”

“OK, Charlotte. I’ll call you later, OK?” Emily hung up, presumably to call all of her other friends and revel in schadenfreude.

Charlotte was getting a pretty good handle on her anger now, and she found herself irritated by her friend’s lighthearted response to her crisis. Not once had Emily said she was sympathetic or said that she felt bad that Charlotte was going through this or offered to do anything concretely helpful. Oh well. To be fair, she wasn’t sure what she would do if the situation were reversed. She smiled at the thought of Emily’s parents getting in trouble. For what? Shoplifting at Zabar’s? Buying non-fair-trade coffee?

Jim Scarsford, watching her from across the room, saw a brief smile soften her features for a moment, then fade away. Mallory came over and spoke to him.

“We’re good here. You can take her downtown now, if you want. Or keep her waiting some more. It’s up to you. Sometimes if they get worked up enough, they make a mistake, you know, blurt something out in frustration that they wouldn’t have otherwise.”