Edward's jaw dropped a little, and he just stared at Harry, not speaking.
"Pornography? Wha - I have no idea what you're talking about. Honestly. Jesus Christ!" he exclaimed, running his hand through his hair again. He seemed genuinely upset, but I had to keep reminding myself that he was an actor, and a very good one. Much better than I had realized, according to the performance he was giving at the moment.
"Mr. Cullen," Harry began again. "We have you on videotape at the hotel having several conversations with Jacob Black, the bartender at the hotel. Several conversations where you allude to selecting women from the bar to bring up to your suite, and Mr. Black was assisting you."
Harry hit play on a small remote, and a large monitor mounted on the far wall came to life. It was a fuzzy image, and although there was no audio, the FBI had experts who could determine what was being said to a reasonable certainty. The dialogue was written along the bottom of the screen, like captions.
It was Jake, behind the bar, and Edward was sitting at the bar, half turned to the camera. A woman walked by, and Jake smiled and leaned in to Edward.
"How about that one?" he said with a leering glance back at the woman, who had settled in a booth in the corner. The movement of his lips and the expression on his face clearly confirmed the conversation.
Edward laughed at Jake, looking like he was playing along, and replied, "No, not her."
The agent glared at Edward, waiting for him to suddenly confess, and then angrily turned back to the monitor when he didn't.
"There are several of these interactions, all exactly the same. An attractive woman walks by, Mr. Black makes a comment, and you reply. But it's always the same... 'How about this one?' then 'No, not her.' I don't get it, Mr. Cullen. What exactly was your process for picking just the right woman for your night on camera? What made you decline all of these women?" he demanded as he hit the fast-forward button on the remote. My eyes had trouble keeping up, but I saw more women go by, more women that they discussed. Harry turned his laser glare back to Edward. "And what exactly was it about this last one that made her the lucky gal?"
He slid a picture of me across the table until it hit Edward's hands. It was a picture from that night, from the suite, but the agents had graciously cropped it so that it only showed my face. Edward looked down at it and gasped, like he was surprised to see it. He stared at the picture for several seconds, his face softening just enough for me to notice, and I wondered what he was thinking, what was going through his head at that exact moment. Did he suddenly feel remorseful for what he did? Did seeing my picture, remembering my face, in what was surely hundreds of faces in his memory, did it make him regret his disgusting, deceitful, and illegal actions?
"You are twisting around everything I said, everything that happened," Edward said suddenly, his voice, low and angry. "I don't know anything about a porn ring, and I certainly don't know anything about - "
He stopped suddenly, his eyes returning to my picture, still face up on the table. He picked it up, holding it for several seconds before he spoke.
"Wait a minute," he said, sounding confused and a little upset. "You said something about a pornography ring. About pictures taken in my hotel suite. And about pictures," he paused, swallowing hard, "showing up on the web."
No one said a word. He had started talking, and they were going to let him go. It was standard procedure, the perp often talking themselves into a corner.
"The pictures," Edward said, his obvious anger growing as he spoke. "Was she in these pictures?" He held up my picture, shaking it in Harry's face.
"I think you know the answer to that, Mr. Cullen," Harry replied coolly. "Since you were there. Since you were the one who authorized the shoot. The one who gave Mr. Black the go-ahead to turn on the cameras that night."
Edward exploded, shooting out of his chair and jumping on Harry. The chair fell to the floor, making a loud crashing noise, and activity in the room seemed to be moving in slow motion. Edward was hitting Harry. The other two officers were pulling on Edward, trying to get him off of Harry, but Edward was a man possessed.
Finally, they had control of him and slammed him, face-down, on the table, pulling his arms behind his back and handcuffing him. One of them was reading him his rights, arresting him for assault on a federal agent, the other was securing the cuffs and throwing him back in the chair. They must have hit Edward as well, in the scuffle, because his lip was swollen and there was a trickle of blood coming out of the side of his mouth.
"You didn't answer me!" he screamed at Harry. "Was she the girl in the pictures you're talking about? On the Internet?" He started to struggle again, pulling at his bound wrists. "Was it her? Was it Bella?"
I flinched hearing my name, and so did Charlie.
Edward was breathing heavily, the veins in his neck standing out. He was staring at Harry, his unanswered question hanging heavily in the air. We all knew the answer to his question, that I was the girl in the pictures, but he didn't know that we knew.
"Yes, Mr. Cullen. The pictures you took of Ms. Swan, the illegal pornographic pictures of the two of you in that hotel suite, appeared on the Internet, just as you arranged."
"Of us?" Edward asked, his voice strangely quiet. "The pictures... they were of Bella and me? In the suite?"
Harry nodded.
"But... how?" he asked. "Who, who could have... where did the pictures come from? I don't... I don't understand."
I found myself feeling sorry for Edward, understanding exactly what he was going through, the moment of realization. I had to keep remind myself that he was in on it, that he had put me in the position I was in, that this was all his fault.
"Please, I didn't do anything, for God's sake, just tell me what the hell is going on," he gasped. "I don't know what exactly you think I did, what I was a part of, but I'm a fucking victim here, just like - "
He stopped, just before saying my name a second time, and it was a good thing, because Charlie had stood up at that moment and had his hand on the interrogation room door. If Edward had dared to equate his situation with mine, well, I feared for Edward's life.
Sorry this is so late. I've been out of town all day and JUST got back. I hope it was worth waiting for. This chapter, and the next, are my favorites. :)
Typo in my last author's note. My beta's name is LibbyLou862 :)
All things "Twilight" belong to Stephanie Meyer. The remainder of the perversion is all mine. :)