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“Cause of death?” Morgan asked, looking over the photos of the crime scene. She got a sideways glance from Emma, who sighed.
“You don’t need to do the ‘I didn’t look into the files before I showed up’ routine, Counselor Morgan,” she said. “That may work on the detectives, but I know you at least marginally better than that.”
“And if I told you I really didn’t look into the files this time?” Morgan replied.
“Really?” Emma looked taken aback. “It’s not like this was a last minute case.”
“I had other obligations that popped up,” Morgan said, waving her gloved hand to tell Emma to move on.
“Well, it’s probably the giant block of cheese you can see there. With all the blood on and around it. And traces of which were found on the victim’s head by the coroner.” Emma took a moment away from sifting through her reports to point out the photograph she meant. Morgan felt her blood pressure elevate just slightly as Emma got that close to her.
“...Was the victim lactose intolerant?” Morgan asked.
“I think everyone is lactose intolerant when that much of it impacts their cranium.”
“Ha ha. It’s a genuine question, Emma. I don’t see it in her file.”
“It’s not the kind of thing that gets put on file anymore,” Emma replied. “There’s basically no lactose in anything, so even if Ms. Wheeler was lactose intolerant, it wouldn’t have come up-”
“Wanna bet?” Morgan asked, sliding a file across the desk. Emma took it in her hands, savoring the antique feeling of actually holding physical information instead of dealing with screens all the time.
“A flyer for the fromagerie?”
“Look at the bottom. One of their claims to fame is being the only cheese shop that still uses non-synthetic dairy. Which means lactose.”
“Counselor, what are you getting at?”
“Can’t a girl be curious?”
“I don’t like it when you’re curious. It leads to some of the biggest headaches I’ve ever had.”
“My apolo-cheese.”
“...What did you just say?”
Morgan blinked. She glanced over to Emma, who had locked her gaze onto Morgan with a sudden intensity that did not feel as playful as it just had been.
“I said… my apolo-cheese. It was a pun. Based on the fact that this case took place in a cheese shop.”
“A fromagerie. In any case, I had been waiting for a reason to show you this…” Emma turned a datapad towards Morgan. On the screen were several lines of text - Morgan could immediately recognize it as an automated transcript. Internally, she winced. What was on this? Looking closer, most of the conversation was fairly banal, but one line near the end jumped out at her.
Cheesed to meet you.
“Emma, what am I looking at? What is this a transcript of?”
“The victim, Brie Wheeler, had her phone in her pocket while she was working her shift at the fromagerie. It seems to have been completely smashed in the altercation, but it saved the transcript of the last things it heard, if not the actual audio. This is that transcript.” Emma had that glint in her eye that was the closest anything had ever come to making Morgan’s blood run cold.
“I thought the cheese shop didn’t-”
“Fromagerie, Morgan.”
“I thought the cheese shop didn’t let its employees have their phones while they were working,” Morgan reiterated, sitting up straight in her chair and taking a reasoned and measured tone.
“Interesting. That’s true, but I would have expected you to point out that the automatic transcription service was down for maintenance that day,” Emma rebutted.
“It’s a weird tactic, admitting there’s two reasons the evidence I’m looking at shouldn’t exist,” Morgan said, her expression as vapidly smug as she always made sure it was.
“Well, I can disprove yours,” Emma said almost too casually, as if it were a sure thing that Morgan should already know. That irked Morgan, of course, but she put that aside.
“Go on.”
“Ms. Wheeler was a shift manager at the fromagerie. She would have been allowed to have her phone when she was the only management present, in case she needed to contact the owner. Which happened to be the case on the day of the murder.” The words flowed from Emma naturally - Morgan eyed her warily as she settled into her courtroom demeanor. This was Emma at her best - this was dangerous.
“Okay. How about the maintenance?” Morgan asked, knowing she was probably taking some kind of bait.
“Ms. Wheeler’s phone was illegally modified in order to not automatically update when the manufacturer sent out the signal and instead ask the user if they wanted to update at that time,” Emma explained, yawning as she started to settle back down. “She was running an outdated version of the transcription service, but she was running it all the same.”
“Okay. I’ll bite, Emma. How does this point to my client?” Morgan asked, bracing herself.
“Your client?”
“...Yes? Colby Edam, the one Reyes arrested on charges for Wheeler’s murder?” Morgan stared blankly at Emma. “Don’t tell me you camembert.”
“Oh. That’s why you’re here.” Emma seemed almost put out in a way that Morgan couldn’t get a read on, no matter how she tried. “No, it couldn’t have been Edam. Doesn’t make any sense. I thought I told Reyes…”
“Okay, so what am I doing here?” Morgan groaned. “And why did you think I was here?”
“You just show up when there’s a case. I forgot about the part where you need a client,” admitted Emma with a shrug.
“You-” Morgan sighed. “Please tell me I at least get my defense fee from the state.”
“That’s between you and the state, but I imagine you’ll at least get a ‘processing fee’ for your trouble.”
“Well, that’ll do!” Morgan stood up. “I must say, if you’re so dialed in you didn’t put that together… you must be some kind of muenster. So long, Emma.” Gathering her things together, she headed towards the exit.
“Yes, yes. You have a gouda day, Counselor Morgan.”
Morgan froze in the door and glanced over her shoulder, seeing Emma’s sharp brown eyes digging into her as a satisfied smile played out over her face.
“...Not to be curd , but I didn’t take you for those kinds of jokes.”
“We all have surprises inside us, don’t we? I’m sure you have plenty of your own.”
“...Right. Now if you’ll excuse me, I… ricotta go.”
As she headed outside to the ride that was waiting for her, Morgan slammed her foot against the ground in a moment of rage. Emma had run circles around her - it was a waste of her damn time. And beyond that…
Ricotta? I couldn’t land anything better at the end? Fuck. I knew I shouldn’t have used ‘camembert’ so early. Next time… Next time I’ll show her I’m cheddar.
Better. Damn it.