Deck O’Rourke leaned against the reception desk, drinking coffee that smelled suspiciously like it had been sitting on a burner since breakfast.
And they were talking at once.
Frannie lowered her reading glasses.
“Lucy.”
Lucy looked up.
“Yes, ma’am?”
“If you’re about to repeat another rumor from that internet nonsense, kindly remember this is a law office and not a gossip column.”
Lucy brightened.
“It’s not gossip. It’s a podcast.”
Frannie stared at her.
“That is decidedly not an improvement.”
Deck chuckled into his coffee.
“Let the girl talk, Frannie. She’s got the spirit of an investigator.”
Lucy beamed.
Frannie pointed a pen at him.
“Declan O’Rourke, do not encourage her.”
Lucy turned the laptop toward them, tugging the dangling earbud free so the sound filled the room.
“But listen to this.”
Deck sighed.
“I regret everything already.”
Lucy clicked play.
The host’s voice filled the reception area.
“Sources close to the investigation say Mercer development sites should be searched for evidence related to the disappearance of Caroline Simms?—”
Deck nearly choked on his coffee.
“Oh for the love of?—”
Frannie snapped her fingers.
“Declan.”
He stopped mid-sentence.
Lucy frowned.
“What were you about to say?”
