Fatal February Read Online Free PDF Page B

and within minutes Ms. Shmeegle herself promised to send over the perfect candidate first thing the next morning. Brittany Wilson would be there with a résumé filled with experience.
    After a few minutes of sorting the haphazard papers on my desk into something that passed for neat piles, I sat back and contemplated the events of the day. My head ached thinking of Frank suing me, and the bar investigating me. I had no clue into Lillian’s case, and my other clients’ files were untouched. I knew what I needed.
    Carlos had given me his cell phone numbers. He carried more than one and also had a satellite phone in the Escalade. The first number I tried answered immediately.
    “Mary, is that you? I recognized your number on the caller ID. What’s up?”
    A great question. I knew what I hoped was up. “I’ve had a lousy day. How about dinner tonight? I’ll pick up something on my way home.”
    “Hey, you’ve never seen my house. I’ll provide dinner there and maybe even some after dinner entertainment, if you’re in the mood,” he said.
    “I can probably get in the mood,” I answered. “Seven o’clock?”
    I was definitely in the mood. Why else did he think I called?
    * * *
    I locked up and went straight home, fed Sam, and walked him. I soaked in a bubble bath perfumed with Obsession bath oil. I put on my prettiest undies, a mini skirt, and low-cut blouse, and I was on my way.
    Pinecrest is an old suburb filled with enormous ficus and oak trees. All the pines are gone because of some kind of beetles, but the name is still there. There are older homes mixed in with new McMansions. The name of choice this year for these humongous abodes is Starter Castles.
    I pulled into the circular drive at the address Carlos gave me. There was a brick courtyard in front of a fake Mediterranean château. Starter Castle was definitely the right name for this one. The doorbell sounded like a call to church. The only outdoor amenity lacking was a moat with a crocodile.
    Carlos opened the door. Behind him was a two-story entry hall with a sort of turret at the very top with stained-glass skylights. He was dressed in shorts and a polo shirt. An appetizing odor of cooking wafted from somewhere. I wasn’t sure whether it was the food or Carlos that whet my appetite.
    He pulled me in the door and kissed me. My headache disappeared.
    “Oh, come with me,” he said, and pulled me through the hall and into a kitchen, which looked as if it had been designed for a professional chef. Gleaming stainless steel appliances were reflected in the glossy white tile. Cherry cabinets and a refrigeratorthat looked large enough to walk into filled the walls
    “When I saw you, I forgot that I was cooking.” He pointed to a bar stool in front of a butcher-block island in the center of the room
    I sat down and Carlos put a glass of wine in front of me. “You didn’t have to cook,” I said. “I had no idea you had so many talents.”
    “You haven’t begun to enjoy my talents yet, but maybe you can start tonight. What happened today that was so lousy?”
    “I’m being sued by my ex-boss for stealing his clients and trade secrets. The jerk has gotten an ethics complaint filed against me by the Florida Bar. I had to hire myself a lawyer, and my murder case makes no sense. I also have no help in my office, and I seem to be going in circles.”
    “What kind of ethics thing?” Carlos looked over at me with a frown.
    “The bar has a rule about attorneys having sex with their clients. Frank, the vindictive son of a bitch, filed a complaint about what he saw in the office. You know, you and me.”
    “Oh, so that’s all.” Carlos looked relieved. “I thought maybe it had to do with the work you did on the Israeli deal. You’ll get past all of this. My grandmother always said ‘the smaller the problem, the faster the solution.’ Or something like that. It doesn’t seem to translate too well. Drink your wine and relax. I havea great shrimp creole