“I can’t get anyone to open the door,” I told Mr. Jenkins the next morning as I parked my car across the street from the office. I’d run by the Richardson home, but no one answered the door. People were home; I saw the cars in the driveway. They simply had no interest in speaking with me. I’d left my card.
“I’m not surprised. No one in the family, other than LJ, is interested in cooperating with the defense, and he’s at work today. Besides, I have another matter to talk over with you.”
“Okay.”
“Mrs. Richardson’s assets have been frozen by the courts as of this morning. I’m in discussions with a benefactor who has expressed interest in helping out with some of the costs. Until that is sorted out, Harper seemed to believe you would be able to accommodate. I’m hoping to have the funds before the retainer is depleted.”
Pro bono work was something I’d prepared for and thought through. “This benefactor?” I cringed, thinking about the insinuation from the reporters involving Mother. Piper got her information somewhere, and she has been correct about me. “Is it someone from Sweet Mountain or her old hometown?” I watched as a single yellowish-red leaf danced across my windshield before wedging beneath the wiper.
“I’m not at liberty to divulge that information at this time. If it changes, I’ll pass the information along. And in the spirit of full disclosure, I’ve encouraged Mrs. Richardson to consider a plea formally. It’s up to you if you’d rather not do this. I’m doing my job. I work for Mrs. Richardson.”
Uncle Calvin would not be happy about pro bono work. Especially with what had transpired in front of the hospital and the possible link between the cases. But it technically wasn’t a pro bono case yet, and perhaps it wouldn’t be. And if it did become such a case, I’d work it on my own time if I had to. The link only made me more determined. There shouldn’t be any travel costs, except maybe if the case took us to North Carolina—though I did believe most work could be enacted online and over the phone. And I could stretch the retainer if we needed to send Stephen, our part-time man.
“As I said at the hospital, I’m invested in helping Harper clear her name. I’m surprised you’re going the extra mile, especially after your insistence that she take a plea deal.”
“I’m out to do the very best for my client, whatever that looks like. I’ll let Mrs. Richardson know of your decision.”
“Okay, bye.”
Mr. Jenkins confused me. He did seem more eager to fight for Harper than he had earlier. Perhaps the possibility of the influx of cash played a role in the change. I’d have to broach the subject with Calvin later today. Piper came darting around several parked cars the next morning as I waited to cross the street to my office. Wow, she must have dropped everything she had planned for the day and flown over here after I called. She called my name several times, but I ignored her, pretending not to hear her. I wanted her eager to speak to me, not thinking I needed her for information.
I had my key in the office door when she finally caught up to me. “Morning, Piper. I’m surprised to see you so early.” I smiled. “Pleased, but surprised.”
“Good morning. I was able to move some things around to accommodate your requested meeting.” She smiled and tucked behind her ear a few strands of her dark shiny hair, styled straight as a board today but getting windblown. “How are you feeling?” Her perfume overwhelmed my senses, forcing me to stifle a cough.
I studied her for a second as I unlocked the door. She didn’t seem to be holding a grudge. “I’m fine. Thank you for asking, and thank you for making time for me.” I pushed open the door, flipped on the lights, and headed straight for the coffeepot.
“No problem. I also wanted to apologize for the other day at the police department. My editor was up my ass about getting the scoop before one of the larger media outlets did.” She sighed. “I’m just like you. A woman who’s trying to make a career out of what she loves to do.”
“I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean to behave so childishly.” I held up a cup of coffee in offering. “Coffee?”
“Please.” She made herself at home by taking a seat in front of my desk. She crossed her legs and smiled. “Tell me what I can do for you.”
“Just thought we should clear the air.”
“I’m all for clearing the air.” Piper glanced around. “This is a nice office.”
“Thanks.” I adored the fifteen-hundred-foot functional space. We had exposed brick walls with painted tan columns. The ceiling, we’d painted black, to hide the exposed ductwork and beams. The floors were original hardwood, and we’d hired a feng shui consultant to help design the space when I came on board. I’d hung up some abstract art for color and added a couple of large floor plants to bring in life.
Usually, the energy in the office lifted my mood and made me more productive. Today, not so much. My mind continued to be haunted by the ghoulish sight of Leonard Richardson and of the man called Spider who’d attacked me. I was also still worried about who might be helping Harper as her benefactor. Not that I’d share any of that with Piper Sanchez.
She tapped her acrylic nails together. “Clearing the air could be healthy. And in doing so, maybe we could help each other.”
I turned to face her. “How?”
She raised a shoulder. “I could offer some information that might help with your case, and you could allow an on-the-record interview.” She raised her hands to stave off any objections. “Not about the Harper Richardson case, but about the attack on you in Atlanta. I’m thinking of a businesswoman’s view of crime in the state. Tell your story of the attack.”
A little quid pro quo was precisely what I wanted. Still, I didn’t want to appear too eager to leap. “There’s honestly no side to tell. I saw the footage; it’s all there.” I allowed a slight slump to my shoulders. “You were there, and I know you’ve watched the footage too. Everyone has.” The Keurig finished brewing. “How do you take yours?”
She gave a sympathetic smile. “Black, please. There is a story. There’s always a story. How did you feel when the man grabbed you? What did he say? How does the attack affect your day-to-day life? Why not get it on the record with me and your hometown paper rather than see some fabrication splattered all over the Atlanta papers.”
“I don’t know.” I placed the mug on my desk’s edge in front of her, then put another pod in the machine. “They caught the guy, and that’s good.”
“Yes, that is good. But …” Piper let the word linger for a few seconds. “I did see the footage and read the piece the Atlanta Constitution wrote, and it wasn’t very flattering now, was it? There’s a rumor that someone paid that guy to enact the crime. And what might have transpired if Charles hadn’t intervened?” She took a sip from the mug as I settled behind my desk, and I realized she had a source in the Atlanta PD offices. “It painted you as a non-vigilant female, not as the competent businesswoman you are. Have they reached out to you?”
“The police or the paper?”
“The paper.”
I shrugged a shoulder. I didn’t think anyone had. But there could be voicemail waiting for me, and if that were true, a visit would soon follow. But I had no intention of revealing that I hadn’t read the article Piper referenced. I simply waited. She wanted something from me badly, and the onus was on her to work for it, leaving me able to ask for whatever I wanted in return.
Piper cleared her throat and placed the mug on the desk. “Just consider it. I want people to get to know the real Lyla Moody. Private investigator Lyla Moody.” Piper leaned forward. “The self-made, fearless woman who, by doing her job, rattled a few cages that landed her in the hot seat.” She took her phone out of her brown leather bag. “We can take a few shots. What you’re wearing is perfect today.” She smiled approvingly at my designer brown pencil skirt, cream top, and brown jacket.
I sipped my coffee and stared over my mug at her. “I’m not agreeing to anything. Yet.”
Piper made a noncommittal noise. “Is this about Quinn? Seriously, if you want him, you can totally have him.”
“No,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “This is not about Quinn.” Gran’s statement about Piper’s discarded men rang true here. She was ready to dump Quinn for a story. Wow.
“What is it about then? I know you and I haven’t been the best of friends lately, but we were really good friends once.” In middle school. “But I thought we shared a mutual respect. I realized when you were rude to me at the police department, you were stressed out, and I got it.” Oh, cue the guilt. “We were always friendly up till then. And we’re both businesswomen working to make a name for ourselves here in our little town. I’ve even offered to share my scoops.”
I kept my eyes trained on her dark brown irises as I sipped from my cup. We had been friends once. I had admired her tenacity in her work. Respected her for going after what she wanted in life—though not a fan of her desire to use Quinn as a bargaining chip. It certainly wouldn’t be a method I’d use. But I’m sure other people wouldn’t approve of some of my methods either.
“You’re right. And again, I was out of line the other day. You have a gorgeous figure and a perfect ass.” I gave her the “I hate you” look women gave their friends, which everyone understood was a compliment.
She smiled. “I better have. My grueling daily squat routine isn’t for fun. And like I said, I completely overlooked what you said. Come on.” She placed the mug on the desk with a thud. “I need this.” I could tell she meant it. “And let’s face it, so do you. Plus, I’ll owe you one,” Piper dangled at the end.
“Okay. I’ll do it. But”—I smoothed out my fashion ponytail and gave Piper a point-blank stare—“I will not discuss anything about Harper or the incident at my parents’ house.”
“Fine,” she said, nodding eagerly. “No problem.”
“And I want the contact info for Charles Hammond. I want to get his take on what happened at the hospital.”
“Sure thing.” She dug through her bag and took out her phone. Within a few seconds, my phone pinged with a shared contact. One thing I could say was positive about Piper Sanchez. She took her work seriously and gave it everything she had. Her work was her life, and I could relate to that.
I decided to push, just a little. “And speaking of owing me—”
“What?” She pursed her lips.
“If anything about Harper crosses your desk, I get it first.”
“Oh my God!” Piper rolled her eyes. “You know I can’t promise that.”
“I’m not asking for that. All I’m asking is for a heads-up. No one will ever know where it came from. And I’m not saying you can’t run it. And”—I leaned forward—“if we see this works out, we might be able to help each other moving forward. I could send tidbits your way.”
I could see her contemplating the possibilities of a working relationship. “You know this could be brilliant. Two powerful women running this town behind the scenes.”
I smiled and nodded. “Exactly. Women helping women.”
She nodded. “Girl power.” She held up her pinky as she had in junior high.
I laughed and linked my pinky with hers. “Girl power.”