I slept like the dead that night. I didn’t wake until almost seven thirty, which was late for me. I’m normally in the office by then. I shoved my mug under the coffee maker and hit the button, then took a quick shower. I threw on my usual black slacks, white tee, and leather jacket, slipped into my loafers, grabbed the coffee, and ran down the stairs and out into the garage. I was in the office by eight twenty. Jacque was waiting for me—wasn’t she always?
Now Jacque Hale, my personal assistant, is a very special kid. I say kid. She’s twenty-seven years old, has a master’s degree in business administration and a bachelor’s in criminology: quite a combination, which is one of the reasons I hired her even before she got out of college. I liked the kid. She’s attractive; when she smiles, she lights up the room. She’s a little on the skinny side, tall, with long black hair. She has a great sense of humor and a wonderful personality, but she can be serious when she needs to be, especially when she’s around me and in the office. Her parents are Jamaican. I love them both dearly.
I walked into the outer office through the side door. She looked at me, the accusation unspoken.
“I’m late,” I said. “So what?”
“I’ve been waitin’ for you. There are messages. There are papers for you to look over and sign, and I know you: a quick cup of coffee and you’ll be out of here.”
“Let’s go.” I grinned at her back as she pushed open the door to my office and marched inside. She was right. There were a half-dozen messages and a sheaf of papers half an inch thick. Fortunately, it wasn’t as bad as it looked. Many of the papers had been sorted into groups and stapled.
“Judge Sharpe called,” she said. “Can you call him back this afternoon, after five? He’s in court all day.”
“I can do that.”
“I’ll remind you.”
I grinned at her. She did not smile back.
“Also, Larry Soames called. He didn’t say what he wanted, and I did ask him. He said he would tell you himself.” I could tell she wasn’t too pleased about that.
“Soames?”
She nodded. “He probably wants to hire you.”
“Hah. Well, we’ll see. I’ll call him later.”
“I’ll remind you of that, too.”
There were a couple more messages, but nothing important. I told her I’d make the calls before I left, and I waited. She just looked at me, her eyebrows raised in question.
“Nothing from Kate?” I asked.
“No!”
I’ve always had the impression that Jacque doesn’t altogether approve of my relationship with Kate. Something about conflict of interest. I heard her murmur it one day as she walked out of my office.
“So,” she said, “what are your plans for today?”
“How’s my schedule look? I have a couple of things I need to do, and they’re kind of urgent.”
“Well, after you make your calls, you have a couple of client appointments this afternoon, nothing I can’t reschedule, but I can only do it once. When would you like to see them?”
Now when Jacque makes a promise on my behalf, I know I have to keep it. If I don’t, she takes it personally, so I knew I needed to be careful. I thought for a moment and then said, “How about Friday morning?”
She flipped the pages on my desk calendar. “A quarter after eight, and nine thirty. Good?”
I nodded. I hate making appointments for Fridays. Oh well. I looked at my watch. It was nine o’clock. I got up from my desk to grab a second cup of coffee, then sat down again to think. Shady Tree. Hmmm. Why were your boys arguing with Tabitha? Time to find out, I think.
I swallowed the rest of my coffee, then breezed out through the office.
“Later, Jacque, later,” I said as she started to rise from her seat. “Call if you need me, okay?”