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with their smashed cameras. However, they have safety in numbers and travel in packs. Picture a lone PI in the same situation. There had been some nasty confrontations, a few of which ended up in court.
    “Are you sure you’re okay?” Mom said. “I have a feeling something is wrong.”
    There it was—her suspicious tone that reduced me to the status of a three-year old. But this time, I needed to stay strong. Instead, I took the coward’s way out. “I have to run. My appointment is in ten minutes, and it’s across town. Everything is fine, really it is.” Oops. Not too much, Beth. She ’d see through it like a drunken barfly’s line.
    Silence took over, but I fought the urge to break it. It was Mom’s play, and I was determined not to take it away.
    “So, when are you coming to visit?” she said. “Dallas is still your home, you know.”
    “Soon, Mom, soon.” Hurray. Her change of subject meant I’d won that round. “Now, I really do have to run. I’ll talk to you later in the week. Bye for now.” I blew her a kiss, put the phone in its cradle, and bolted for the front door. If it rang, I wanted to be able to say I never heard it.

eight
    I made it to Bergstrom and Bergowitz in record time and hit Donna’s enclave at one fifty. Proving my elevated position in her world, she let me into Sly’s office before the appointed time.
    He rose and came around his desk, his hand extended. As we shook hands, he pulled me to him and gave me a hug. “Glad to see you. You should come by more often.”
    I wanted to believe he said that because he meant it, but I knew sarcasm when it came my way. “Hey, I was here a couple of weeks ago.”
    “Three weeks.” He ushered me toward his conference table where sandwiches rested on a platter alongside chips and sodas. He went to the other side and dropped into a chair. “Forgive me, but I’m hungry. It’s been a long day.” He picked up a chicken salad sandwich.
    I did the same and took a nervous bite, a large one, then poured soda into a plastic glass and took a large slug of it. My hands shook and my stomach was roller-coaster heavy.
    Sly leaned forward, swallowing a bite of his sandwich. “Settle down, Beth, and tell me what happened—word by word, step by step. Whatever it is has you jumping around like a cat on a hot tin roof. And your eating habits are atrocious.”
    I slowed my chomping and tried to chew like a lady. In an attempt to relax, I looked around. Sly was successful, no doubt about it. The office and its furnishings screamed old money . Nothing stood out as being ostentatious, but everything added up to good taste and expensive. Lots of dark wood and leather filled the area, a setting that calmed the most nervous person. It almost calmed me.
    Sly was right with his comments though. For reasons I couldn’t quite pinpoint, I was flitting all over the place. If I didn’t follow his advice, no one would understand me. Not even my mom—or my ex-husband during the first months of our marriage. Later, I learned he only said that to get what he wanted. Did I mention my nickname for him was Sonny-the-Bunny?
    I folded my hands together and concentrated on them. “Okay, it started with a phone call from a woman who identified herself as Maria Garcia, wife of Hector Garcia. She sounded agitated, asking if I could meet her for lunch, a latte, or whatever. I invited her to come to my office, but she refused, insisting on a public place.” I looked up to make sure Sly was paying attention. He was, a bemused smile on his face—his lawyer smile. “I told her the latte idea fit me better since I’d eaten a late breakfast. She picked a Starbucks in Boca Raton. I picked three o’clock. She said she’d seen my picture on my web site and would recognize me.”
    “Did she say why she wanted the meeting?”
    “No. I asked, but she refused to answer, saying she’d tell me when we met.” I looked back at my hands, knowing Sly must be thinking that was a nutsy