A woman’s voice calls from behind us and Lilac gives me a quick peck on the cheek. “I got to go. Thank you so much.”
“No problem. Say hi to Slate. Tell him to bring a wad of cash to the next poker game. I intend to win back my fees.”
She grins and playfully punches my arm. “He swears you cheat.”
“Don’t have to.” I wink as she glances into the main arena and moans. “Shit. The ER is about to blow up. Ambulances arriving.”
Seconds later, three or four gurneys are rolled in, lots of folks bloody and screaming. I don’t need to see that so wander to the waiting room. In addition to the regular set of sick people, it’s full of paparazzi, the two cops, and a group of young people in black, one with a guitar case.
A hospital guard eyes me so I flash a card at him, “Lawyer. Just getting some joe.”
After he nods, I put a buck into a vending machine. Beans grind, some kind of water pressure thumps, and steaming hot coffee pours into a thick paper cup that pops out of the bottom. I sniff, test for heat, and take a deep gulp.
Not bad.
I get another cup for the harried guard, drop it with him, then wander back to the bay where my client’s big blue eyes are wide awake.
“Hello?” Her voice sounds more normal than before. “Who are you?”
“Andrew Quinn, your lawyer.”
Her pretty face skews. “I’m confused. Sorry, things are a bit mixed up in my head. Do I know you? God, I feel awful.”
“What do you recall?” I need to know what she took last night and who witnessed it. If she has no history of abuse and pays restitution, I may be able to keep her out of jail.
She scoots up to sitting and quickly puts her head between her knees. “Owww. I’m pretty sure I had a gig last night.”
Rather than hover, I sit back down in the tortuous metal folding chair. “Were you drinking?”
She closes her eyes. “I’m not sure. I might’ve had a beer. I never have more than one.”
“Anything else?” I focus on her face, her body language, any clue to her mindset but she’s impossible to read. All I get is confusion.
“I usually eat a few wings between sets, why?”
“Drugs?” I shoot fast, hoping to catch her unawares but her stunning eyes widen and her mouth drops open.
“Never. Why?”
“You had opioids in your system and blood alcohol of point one five.”
“Oh my God. That’s impossible. I would never…” Her head thumps back on the pillow and she moans. “I am so screwed. You know who I am, right?”
“Sienna Giles. Married to the son of one of the richest men in America. Left penniless at his death.”
“Not actually penniless. I get by.” Her voice takes on a defensive edge as she juts out her chin. “I just don’t run around in the same circles you’re probably used to. What do you want from me, really? Publicity? Is that it? I assume the waiting room is full of vultures ready to pick at my remains?”
A small drop of water forms in the corner of her eyes and she wipes it away. “Shit. It never ends.”
Then, the tone of her voice changes again, this time cold and business-like. “Thanks for helping but I can take it from here. Sorry, but I really have to fire you.”
Stormy blue eyes catch mine and I’m astonished by how beautiful they are. I can see why Olafson was so into her but not how he could neglect to put her in his will.
“Maybe I’ll stick around a while. Pro bono.” I give her my most winning smile. While not my famous brother, I don’t usually have a problem holding a woman’s interest.
No doubt because she’s had a concussion, my charm is wasted. “I’m not a charity case.”
“You offered to pay me earlier.”
Chuckling, I lean back in my chair and her face turns bright red. “Oh shit. Listen, I’m sorry. I, ah, I’m not like... I don’t, ah… oh shit.”
While she stutters, I walk over to the bedstand, hand her the ringing cell phone, and duck outside the curtain. “Why don’t you answer your call. We’ll talk about my fees later, okay?”
