Hamilton’s face, trying to read what was going through his mind. Did he think she was a nutcase? Obsessive? Imagining things? A maniac chasing ghosts? She’d exhausted all her options. If he said no to her, she had no idea where she’d go next.
He rose and lifted her coffee cup. “Let me get you a refill.”
Was he softening her up to tell her no? In any event, she realized she needed the caffeine to keep herself going. When he was seated on the couch again, holding his own cup, he studied her again for a long moment. She was ready to jump out of her skin but forced herself to sit still and wait out Blaze Hamilton’s silent assessment of her.
“I’m so tired of banging my head against a wall trying to get information. And angry. I am so damn angry.” She accepted the fresh coffee. “I just want to get at the truth. Is that so wrong of me?”
Blaze shook his head. “Not at all. Everyone deserves the truth.”
“There’s one other thing. I don’t know if it relates to this at all.” She told him about Dane and the pictures Brianne had taken. “All she said was he thought he might know the people, but he wasn’t sure. Now I’m thinking those photos might somehow figure in all of this. But I have no idea who was in those shots, where they were taken and why, and my sister never mentioned it again.”
“She’s a commercial photographer, right? Maybe it had to do with one of her clients.”
“Maybe.” She shrugged. “But why would it upset Dane?”
“Good question. And she never mentioned it again?”
“No. Not a word. Well, that’s it. That’s all I can tell you.” She took a slow sip of the coffee, pulled herself together and studied him. “What do you think?”
He leaned forward, a serious expression on his face, his intent gaze on her. In the telling of her story, she’d forgotten for the moment how electric his presence was and how her body responded. What an inappropriate time for her sleeping hormones to decide to wake up. She just hoped he wouldn’t notice, since she was doing her best to control herself as she waited for his answer.
“I think you got royally screwed,” he said at last. “I did a search on the accident and found very little on it. Dane’s obituary was longer than the news items.”
“I know, right? Weird, although it wasn’t the biggest news item of the week.”
“Just another part of the puzzle. I think—no, strike that—I’m sure we’re going to sign you on as a client. Something stinks to high heaven here and going through regular channels accomplishes nothing, as you’ve found out. If someone is covering something up, especially if they’ve been paid to do it, that’s a hard wall to break through. The thing is to find out why.”
“So, you’ll take this on? Nolan also said you and your partners really like to cherry pick your cases.”
“We do because we can afford to. We decided that right from the beginning. I’ll have to run this past them, but we have never turned away a client when one of us gave approval. We know what kind of cases all of us will get into.”
Relief surged through her. She had to restrain herself from throwing her arms around him. Then she remembered her other concern.
“This will sound stupid, but I have no idea what your fees are. Nolan didn’t tell me and I was just so glad he was sending me to someone who might help me, I didn’t even think to ask. I can handle anything reasonable.” She flashed a tiny grin. “Or even unreasonable, as long as it’s not too far over the line. I do quite well as a published author, but—”
He held up a hand. “We can negotiate to whatever you’re comfortable with. We won’t bankrupt you. I can promise you that. We’re lucky to be in a situation where we can be flexible now and then. And you definitely need our help. That’s obvious. Something smells to hell here, and I want to find out what it is.”
“Thank you.” She wetted her lips. “I can’t tell you—”
He shook his head. “No need to. But we have some work to do. I’m going to get some fresh pastries from the galley. And would you like wine rather than coffee? I’m sure telling the story again took a lot out of you.”