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A cheery redhead emerged from a side hallway, wiping her hands on a napkin. I hadn’t meant to arrive in the middle of the lunch hour. But traffic backed up on 127 so the drive took closer to five hours than the four hours my GPS had initially predicted.

“I’m hoping I can speak with Mr. Sidney. Is he here?”

“Do you have a consultation booked?”

She walked to the reception desk and pulled up something on a laptop.

“No,” I quickly said.

“That’s all right. We take walk-ins too. You’re lucky. We’re pretty flexible today. I’m Raven, by the way, one of the designers.”

She extended her hand to shake mine. Raven had an eccentric style about her. She wore a flowing skirt made of scarves. She was barefoot save for charm bracelets on her ankles. She pulled her hair back with a matching scarf. Though her blouse covered most of them, I could see colorful tattoos poking out near her clavicle, wrists, and forearms.

“Can I get you something to drink? We have tap or sparkling water. Herbal tea? I can put another coffee on if you’d rather.”

“I’m fine, really. I’m just anxious to speak with Mr. Sidney.”

Raven’s smile faltered just a millimeter. “Have a seat.” She gestured toward the blue and gold chairs. It was a cozy little nook. A giant bookshelf covered one wall. The books had been arranged by spine cover color, creating a beautiful rainbow.

Raven disappeared back down the hallway. A few minutes later, Derrek Sidney Jr. appeared. There was no mistaking his DNA. He was practically a copy-paste of his dad with thick blond hair, striking, pale-blue eyes, and a ready smile. I couldn’t help it. A shiver went down my spine. He could drop the junior and his father’s first name, but he could not escape his genes.

“I can set us all up in the conference room,” Raven suggested.

“Actually,” I said, standing. “If you wouldn’t mind having a private conversation with me to start off.”

All traces of cheer melted from Raven’s face. For his part, Boone just seemed curious.

“Of course,” he answered as Raven drew a breath, probably preparing a verbal protest. “We can step into my office, Ms. ...”

“Gale,” I said. “Mercy Gale.”

I followed Boone Sidney into his office. He had an antique ebony desk and two velvet chairs matching those out in the lobby. I took the blue one. He sat in the chair opposite me rather than the one behind his desk.

“May I ask how you heard about us? It’s always good for me to know which of my marketing efforts are working.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I don’t mean to be so cryptic. I would have made an appointment or called first. The truth is, I’m not here to talk about a design job. And if you want to throw me out when you understand my purpose, I won’t be surprised. I’m hoping you’ll be willing to answer some questions I have about your father.”

His eyes narrowed and a tremble went through him. “Are you a reporter?”

“No. I’m actually a private investigator.”

“Then you’ve wasted a trip and my time. I’m not who you think I am.”

“You’re not Derrek Sidney’s only son? Mr. Sidney, I ...”

“Boone,” he said. “You can call me Boone.”

Well, that was at least encouraging. Not only hadn’t he thrown me out, he was comfortable with a first-name basis.

“Mercy. Mercy Gale,” I said. “Actually, you may have heard of my father as well. He’s E. Thomas Gale.”

I waited for that information to land. A series of changes went through Sidney’s face.

“He’s the Dr. Milo guy. The lawyer,” he said. “A Dangerous Affair? Deadly Affair? The movie?”

A Deadly Affair was based off one of my dad’s more infamous trials. He also gave an interview along with his then-client, about the Anton Milo murder case. Milo had been accused of murdering his mistress and their unborn child. The entire country had rushed to judgment. Not only had my father secured his acquittal, he’d actually proven his innocence. Dad had an Oscar sitting on a shelf in his home office for serving as a producer on the film. Julian Stone, one of the highest-paid A-list actors in the business, won his first Oscar for portraying a version of my dad, though they’d changed the character’s name.

“That’s the one,” I said.