Riptide (Sam McRae Mystery #3)

Chapter 6

Okay, I thought. It's Tuesday. The convention doesn't officially start until tomorrow. Even then, most people don't show up on the very first day. A lot of people will miss this.

Then, I realized the local broadcast media would be on this like hounds on a fox. Like vultures on road kill, to be more precise.

"Shit!" I threw the paper aside. "Why did you have to be some rich guy's stepson?" Frustration and rage rose in my throat. I smacked the heel of my hand on the wheel several times. People walking past my car slowed and stared at me.

I took a couple of deep breaths. My hand shook slightly as I turned the ignition, but I started the car. I even managed to pull a shit-eating grin and give the gawkers a brief salute before I left.

*****

En route to our lovely new digs, I hit a drugstore to pick up a few essentials and then swung past the convention center to scope out whether the conference organizers had cottoned to the news of Jamila's arrest. As I suspected, few of my peers were in evidence. While some of them may have chosen to use the convention as an excuse to take a week's vacation, I was sure most were only taking a few days off from busy schedules to be here. That's the practice of law for you: just one long nonstop party.

I ventured into the cavernous building, wandering past a long line of display tables, still empty but no doubt soon to be filled with process servers, title examiners, litigation support services, and other hungry vendors. As I glanced around, a familiar voice came from behind me. One I didn't particularly want to hear.

"Sam? Sam McRae, is that you?"

I turned to face the source. "Hello, Jinx."

Jingle Henderson had to be one of the most irritating lawyers I'd ever known. Her nickname couldn't have been more appropriate. There was no rule Jinx wouldn't try to bend—nearly to the breaking point. I'd dealt with her bullshit on more than one occasion. I didn't want to deal with it now.

However, instead of the cool reception she usually gave me, Jinx beamed a broad smile in my direction. She rushed me and threw her arms around me like a linebacker.

"It's so good to see you, Sam," she said.

"Uh huh." That's all I could force myself to say, as my mind screamed, what the fuck?

Jinx loosened her grip and stepped back, still grinning. "We need to talk."

Must we? "About what?"

Jinx's expression turned more solemn. "Would you like to get coffee?"

Though I'm second to none in my love of coffee, the thought of having it with Jinx wasn't enticing. I let her question hang for a moment before answering. Should I refuse? I'll admit, I was curious.

"Okay. Where do you want to go?"

"There's a place about a mile from here on the boardwalk. Java on the Beach. Do you know it? I could drive us."

Again, I pondered an appropriate reply. I suspected it wasn't, "Gee, Jinx, that's nice, but I'd rather walk there barefoot over broken glass than be stuck in the same car with you."

Finally, I said, "I know the place. Would it be okay if we met there in an hour or so? I'm looking for someone." Anyone else.

Jinx nodded so fast it made me dizzy.

"Awesome! Let's exchange numbers." Reluctantly, I gave her mine and programmed hers into my phone. She glanced at her watch. "See you in about an hour then?"

I nodded as she walked away. Now what's going on?