“Compassion?” Suzannah slid the photos of Gia back into the folder, then buried her face in her hands and peeked through her fingers. “What a mess.”
“Yeah, it’s rough. Maybe we should change the subject.”
“Okay.” Suzannah gave him a hopeful smile. “You said you’d give me more details about the Night Arrow project. Maybe now would be a good time for that.”
He beamed. “You’re fascinated by it, too?”
“Nope. Just fascinated by your obsession with it. There’s a difference.”
Justin’s cell phone began to ring, and he winced as he asked, “Do you mind if I take it?”
“No, please do.” Suzannah jumped up and went to the refrigerator for a bottle of water, glad for the chance to digest the information he had given her about Gia Masterson. The idea that any father could be despicable enough to contort his daughter’s affections the way Horace had done made Suzannah sick.
Then she scolded herself, remembering that Gia Masterson had been a wealthy, powerful woman who had turned her back on her little sister just when the girl had needed her most.
So get a grip, will you? Worry about Justin, not some crazy dead heiress.
He was arguing softly with someone, but his eyes were on Suzannah, and she realized he was looking a little guilty around the edges, which told her the caller was probably one of his girlfriends.
Did he really think she’d be bothered by that? What an ego!
“Okay, I’ll come over,” he muttered into the phone. “Just don’t do anything crazy. And don’t expect me to stay long. I’m not kidding, Mia. So…huh? Oh, okay…See ya.”
He closed the phone and laid it on the table, then gave his attorney a sheepish grin. “Hi.”
“Mia? As in, Mia Masterson? You’re in touch with her?” Suzannah eyed him sternly. “Do you want to go to prison?”
“I tried to get rid of her. But she’s freaked out about some premonition she had. She thinks whoever killed Gia is coming after her next.”
“Tell her to call 911.”
“I did. But she was crying….” He shrugged as if to say, Consoling beautiful rich girls is what I do. Don’t ask me to stop just because I’m on trial for murder.
Pushing back his chair, he stood and reached for his jacket. “I’ll be back in two hours, tops. I know we still have a lot to talk about—”
“We can talk in the car. You drive, I’ll lecture.”
“Huh?” He laughed warily. “You’re sure you want to come along?”
“Do you have rocks in your head? Or just in your pants?” Suzannah demanded. “Can’t you see what’s going to happen? You’ll go over there. Get your prints all over her and her house. Then after you leave, the Angel will swoop in and murder her, and Taylor the Jailor will lock me up. He released you into my custody, remember? You aren’t going anywhere without me except to your hotel room at night, and that’s only because I’m afraid to sleep with an accused murderer in the house.”
“In other words, it’s all about you?”
“Believe it.”
Justin laughed. “This is actually a great idea.”
Suzannah had to admit she liked it, too. Getting the facts of the case through Mia’s eyes, rather than just through Justin’s, made sense. And aside from Charlie Parrish, aka the Angel of Mercy, Mia was the prime suspect, at least in Suzannah’s mind. The younger Masterson daughter was inheriting millions of dollars from Gia, not to mention control of their billion-dollar corporation. Talk about a motive!
“Give me five minutes to change back into my suit—”
“Don’t do that,” Justin interrupted. Then he explained carefully, “Anyone can look professional in a suit. But you carry it off in jeans. Let Mia see that. It’ll drive her crazy and keep her off balance.”
“I don’t play games.”
“Trust me on this, okay? Sometimes a game is the best strategy.”
Because he cons and seduces people for a living, Suzannah reminded herself. And obviously he’s good at it, so…
“Can I wear heels at least?”
“Absolutely. The higher, the better.” Justin’s blue eyes began to twinkle. “You and Mia—man, this should be good.”
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