He studied me for a second, and I wondered, again, if we should discuss Saturday night. “You let me know what else you need,” Grady said.

I thought of the party at Prada that Mayburn wanted me to go to. The one I was supposed to bring a “husband” to. “Feel like going to a party tomorrow night?”

“Sure.” No hesitation.

“It’s a presale for some charity. I don’t know much about it.”

“Whatever.” He shrugged. “I’ll be your Sam stand-in.”

I laughed uncomfortably. “Well, as a matter of fact, I kind of need you to pretend you’re my husband.”

Grady raised his eyebrows. “Now who’s moving too fast?”

“It’s kind of a long story. I’ll explain at some point.” I stood. I felt better suddenly, just by doing something, moving, making plans. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Back at my office, Q was packing up case files with a forlorn look. My stomach dropped hard. He handed me a slip with Mayburn’s name and cell phone on it. “Are we working with him on a case?” he asked.

“Um. Kind of.”

Q waited expectantly.

“Just some things I’m closing up for Forester.”

“You’re having him look into Forester’s death, aren’t you?”

“I just talked to his heart doctor. He said it was a classic heart attack. But I just want to make sure. For Forester. I told you about those threats.”

Q shook his head. Then, “Mayburn said he had information for you.” He picked up a box of files. “I’ll be back.”

I called Mayburn and told him about the conversation with Dr. Loman and the fact that I’d gotten Grady to agree to the Prada party the next night. And to be my husband. I gave him the list of herbs Dr. Li had prescribed as well as her address and phone number.

“Good work,” Mayburn said. Then he cleared his throat. “I’ve got some news, too. First, Alec Thornton’s credit card hasn’t been used in the last week.”

I leaned forward onto my desk, feeling as if the air had been sucked from me. “I just thought…” I said. “I guess I thought this was the best lead on Sam.”

“Yeah, I know. Not yet anyway. But I did get something for you.”

I sat up straight. “Tell me.”

“This sound familiar to you?” He read off a number with a 312 area code.

“That’s Sam’s cell-phone number.”

“Yeah, well…I’ll just get to the point. That number appears to be the last one called from Forester’s study on the night he died.”

My body froze. I literally couldn’t move. My mind felt as if it was frozen, too. “What does that mean?” I managed to say.

“What time did you say Sam got to that wedding coordinator’s office?”

I told him.

“Looks like Forester called Sam about ten minutes before that.”

My mind struggled to regroup, to process what this could represent. “That makes sense. Sam was worried about something. And he said it had to do with Forester.”

“And what time did Sam leave the office?” Mayburn asked.

I told him.

He grunted.

“But that phone call doesn’t mean anything, right? I mean, Forester often called Sam after hours to talk about investments and stuff.”

“What kind of car does Sam drive?”

“A Lexus.”

“Kind of a white color?”

“Yes.” My voice had gone quiet. That frozen feeling returned, and my body literally felt chilled along with it.

“Yeah, thought so. I went back to Lake Forest early this morning and spoke to the three neighbors in the vicinity of Forester’s house. Told them I was with a detective. They thought I was the police. Anyway, two of the neighbors didn’t remember anything from that night.”

“And the third?”

“The third said she saw a white Lexus turning in to Forester’s driveway. About fifty minutes after Sam left the wedding coordinator’s office.”

I stared straight ahead at the closed door of my office. “And?” I sensed there was more.

“You know how when Annette found Forester, he was already dead?”

“Yes.” I could barely hear my own words now.

“The estimated time of death is sometime within the hour the white Lexus pulled in Forester’s driveway.”

47

The meeting with Jane Augustine would be my last, apparently, since I would no longer be representing Pickett Enterprises.

Since talking to Mayburn, a fear had taken up residence in my belly, leaving me with a hollow feeling. And yet as I gave my name at the office of Jane’s lawyer/agent, Steve Severny, the moment had a strange, sweet, wistful quality now that I knew the Pickett work was going away.

Five minutes later, I gave a copy of the final contract to Jane, who looked stunning in a black suit and red scarf, her black hair falling over her shoulders. I handed copies to Severny, as well. I placed one before my chair and remained standing.

The meeting was being held in a conference room that overlooked the river. I glanced down for a moment at Fulton ’s, a restaurant where just two short weeks ago, Sam and I had gone after work for oysters and beer.

“Okay,” I said, trying to focus myself as well as everyone else, “let’s get down to business. Jane, we’re so happy that you’re staying with us for another three years.” I went on to discuss how Jane was a star in the Pickett Enterprises family. I did not mention that very soon I would no longer be a member of said family.

As I started to wind down, I noticed Jane looking uncomfortable.

Severny, a tall man who’d had a lot of Botox and wore his salt-and-pepper hair slicked back, held up his hand. “We’ve got an issue.”

“With what? Jane told us she was ready to sign.” I looked at Jane. She was studying the contract, her head down. “Jane told us to finalize everything, and I have.”

“We’d like an out clause after one year,” her agent said.

“What? You know as well as I do that fixed-term contracts are standard in this industry.”

“True, but Pickett is an unknown entity now that Forester has passed away. We have no idea how the company will be run from here on out.” He gave me a smug smile.

I hated to say it, but he had a point. I saw Shane in Forester’s office. Could he handle the job? Or would he leave it to Walt and Chaz? Did either want the power so badly that they would threaten or harm Forester? In reality, it was too soon to tell how Pickett would be run.

But in the meantime, there was no way in hell I was granting a clause that would let Jane out of her contract in a year. “Sorry,” I said. “Can’t agree to that.”

“I talked to Tanner Hornsby earlier, and he said Pickett Enterprises would consider it.”

My blood started to simmer. “Tanner isn’t handling this negotiation.” At least not yet. “There will be no out clause.”

“Well, then we’re going to have to go back to square one,” the attorney said.

I looked at Jane. She gave a helpless shrug.

I stood. “This meeting is over.” I picked up my bag and left.

Jane ran into the hall after me. “Izzy, I’m so sorry about this mess.”

I hit the button for the elevator and turned around. “Then tell your agent that you’ve already agreed to this contract. More than once.”

“He just gets on those power trips. I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Jane, get some balls and get your agent to say yes. You’ve got until five tomorrow.” I turned and got in the elevator before she could say anything else. I liked Jane. A lot. But my patience, with everything, had run its course.

I pulled my cell phone out of my purse. I’d had it on silent for the meeting, but now I saw that Mayburn had called three times. I also had a text message.

It was from Mayburn-The list of herbs you gave me doesn’t match what was in Forester’s house. The real herb mix was predominantly ma huang, which could have caused a heart attack. When are you seeing the doc?

I called him as soon as I got on the street. “What’s ma huang?”

“It’s ephedra.”

“I thought ephedra was banned by the FDA?”