Divulging Remorse ✔

Chapter 30

She checked her phone to see how many miles she had crossed, but her screen overlapped and displayed an incoming call from an unknown number. She thought of rejecting, but took it anyway, "Hello?" 

"This is Daniyal Hassan from NIB, I'd like to speak with Ms Riya Jahangiri, please."

"Talk to me," she sat down on a nearby bench. 

What is NIB? She gulped. 

"Well, it's about the high-profile murder case. May I ask, why have you refused to take in the case?" 

"The decision was our firm's contributive one and..."

She really didn't want to put her boss in a bad light. How could she tell some third party that he had almost threatened to not dig in the case further? Who was NIB, anyway?

"Is that so? Because, as the company's legal researcher, your disagreement is composed as if it is solely your take on it."

"Yes, as my role demands, the initial implementation needs evidence and I'm afraid there is none of it to take the case to trial."

There was a significant pause at the other side. 

"Evidence needs to be found, it isn't  just lying there to be picked up." The tone had gotten a little irritated. 

Exactly!

Only if someone would let her do that, but she was trying hard to represent her firm well, "Sir, you can contact our chief attorney..."

"What if we give you some evidence. Would you then be able to proceed the case?" 

Her suggestion was obviously stepped upon and kicked aside to make a statement of his own. Whoever it was, he seemed to know the functionalities of her firm well. That is why they were offering her to make a move. Which meant, anyone in her office beside her couldn't be trusted?

She struggled to ask, "Why would you pick me to do this?" 

"You're the one who had sent the refusal."

Duh.

She held her head, suddenly feeling stupid, "What do you want me to do?" 

"Meet us." 

She was being tricked, she knew it the moment the person had mentioned about the case because as far as she could remember, there was certainly no 'NIB' in the email addresses that Younus had given. The culprit was at it again, failing to kill her the other day, he was now on an organised plan. 

She bit her lower lip, heart galloping like a horse, she almost turned them down, but the impulsiveness of the hour had her all pumped up with adventure and wildness. She knew she was rebelling against her job but, she wanted to see how far it would go. What would the end be? Or would the end be her's?

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She entered the fancy restaurant, the kind you'd book two months in advance, not the kind of place you get a table on the spur. It gave a look of pure royalness with its large mullioned windows, long embroidered curtains, dark walnut tables with flowers on each of them. The flagstone tile floor outstretched in the lounge area with embroidered couches and oval coffee tables with splendidly proportioned cabriole legs, waiters serving tea from silver trays in white teapots.