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She ate a few bites of cereal straight from the box, but the corn flakes tasted like sawdust and she made a face as she put the box back in the cabinet. Maybe she’d make do with coffee this morning. Her stomach, and her nerves, were too jittery for food.
The phone rang while she was getting dressed and she leaped for it, grabbing it up without even checking the caller ID.
“Hi, honey,” came Jacky’s cheerful voice.
Two calls in fewer than twelve hours? He must really, really want to impress his newest squeeze by borrowing her Jag. Sometimes months would go by without hearing from him; she would try to call him, of course, but all of her calls would go to voice mail, where she’d be told that his voice mail was full and she couldn’t even leave a message. That was one of his favorite tricks for avoiding calls he didn’t want to take.
“No, you can’t use my car,” she said. “And don’t keep on at me about it, I can’t handle it today.”
“But it’s such a little favor,” he began wheedling, then something in her voice must have sparked his single, long-dormant parenting gene to life, because he paused. “What’s wrong?”
Jaclyn inhaled. There wasn’t any point in not telling him, and she really needed to finish dressing and get to the office. “The police questioned me last night, after I talked to you,” she blurted, evidently so desperate for support she’d even turn to Jacky. “They suspect me of killing one of my clients.”
“How stupid can they be?” he demanded instantly. “Of course you didn’t.”
That swift, unquestioning faith in her made tears swim in her eyes. “They aren’t so sure about it. Thanks for not doubting me.”
“Not for a second. Now, if they suspected me—” He stopped, as if realizing he’d been about to admit to something he might want to leave unsaid, then smoothly picked up the conversation again. “So, who got dead? Anyone I know?”
“Her name is—was—Carrie Edwards.”
“Well, isn’t that still her name, whether she’s dead or not?”
“I guess … I mean, of course it’s still her name, but she’s a was, not an is.” And this was a weird conversation to be having so early in the morning.
“Carrie Edwards, Carrie Edwards,” Jacky mused. “I don’t—Wait a minute. The state senator, the one who’s running for Congress, Dennison … his son’s fiancée was killed. Was she your client?”
“Yep. Until yesterday afternoon, anyway. She fired me before she was killed.”
Jacky was silent a moment, then said, “Ouch.”
“It was a pretty big coincidence.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said blithely. “The cops will get things straightened out.”
Don’t worry about it. There it was, Jacky Wilde’s philosophy of life, which he applied to all situations no matter how dire. “I hope so. In the meantime, I’m worrying.” She cast a glance at the clock; she couldn’t stay on the phone much longer or she’d be late … at least, later than she wanted. Being her own boss was great, but in a small firm like Premier it also meant she and Madelyn had to work long hours to make sure they prospered. “I’m sorry, I have to run. We have a really tight schedule this week and—”
“Wait, wait! Before you hang up, have you thought any more about loaning me the Jag?”
Jaclyn took the phone away from her ear and for several seconds stared at it in disbelief. Only when she heard him saying, “Hello? Hello?” did she put it back to her ear.
“No,” she said firmly. “I haven’t thought about it at all. I was more concerned with the fact that I might be arrested for murder than I was about you having a set of nice wheels to impress your latest floozie.”
“Hey! There’s no need to be disrespectful, young lady. Lola isn’t a floozie.”
“How old is she?”
“What difference does that make?” he asked evasively.
“Younger than I am?”
“I haven’t asked.”
“I’ll take that as a yes. Not that it matters. Even if she was an appropriate age for you, I’d still say no. You go through cars the same way you go through money. I have one car. I need it.”
“Not at night!”
“Jacky! At least half my work is at night! That’s when a lot of people get married or have parties, you know. I’ll be working every night for the rest of this week, and there’s no way I can do without my car. But even if I wasn’t working, the answer would still be no.”
