“Hi, Jim,” I shook his hand, “and I don’t think you met Vicki.”
“Hello, Vicki,” he said, and they shook hands. “Nice to meet you.
“Good to meet you, too.” Vicki smiled pleasantly.
“Well, I appreciate you meeting with me,” Jim Hurley began as he glanced hesitantly between the two of us. “Although, I’ll admit I was surprised to hear from you after … ”
“After what?” I asked as I exchanged a knowing glance with him.
I suspected he had a reason for taking us on so quickly, but none of us were going to bring it up. He’d wanted to defraud an insurance company. He fessed up, and he was a damn good architect.
Jim caught on and shrugged it off.
“Well,” he continued. “Why don’t we all have a seat?” He gestured to a plush gray leather couch area, and as soon as we sat down a young, attractive assistant popped in and asked us what kind of coffee we would like.
“None for me,” I answered as I settled into the couch. Then I crossed my legs and draped my arm behind Vicki beside me.
“Are you sure?” the assistant asked. “We have a mini-Jitters bar for all of our clients.”
“Jitters?” I perked up and felt like Pavlov’s dog.
“Yeah,” she replied. “You know that coffee shop--”
“I know Jitters very well,” I laughed. “In that case, I’ll have a latte if you’ve got one.”
“We can do that,” she said with a smile before she turned to Vicki. “And you, miss?”
“I’ll have a latte as well,” Vicki replied.
The assistant scampered off, and then I turned to Jim.
“Jitters, huh?” I commented. “I’m impressed.”
“They’re the best,” he said as he crossed his legs, “and our clients deserve the best.”
I laughed. “Well played. Well played.”
“We should use that,” Vicki chuckled.
“Get a Jitters bar in our office?” I replied.
“Yeah,” she shrugged, “it can’t be that difficult.”
“It’s not,” Jim confirmed with a smile. “It’s an easy set up contract we find serves our clients quite well. Well, I say our clients. It’s mainly our staff who gets the benefits.”
We laughed, and the assistant showed up back with our lattes and a plate of pastries. We thanked her, and then she left.
“Alright,” Jim said as we got down to business. “What can I do for you here today?”
“I strangled a rooster,” Vicki blurted out before I could get a word in. “We have to move.”
“You what?” I gasped as I turned to her in shock.
“Yeah,” she answered with a cringe, “I didn’t kill it. But I made my point.”
“Jesus, woman,” I sighed. “I drive a BMW. Do you know how fast you could get us sued?”
“Do you know how fast I will counter sue for violating city ordinances?” she shot back.
“A rooster, huh?” Jim chuckled. “Petunia’s roosters?”
“You know her?” Vicki asked with a frown.
“Yeah,” he nodded, “she lived next door to me for years.”
“Really?” I questioned curiously. “She’s next door to us now.”
“Those roosters made me place second in the marathon last year,” he laughed.
“Roosters did that?” I asked.
“Completely,” he confirmed. “I had nothing else to do but get up at five in the morning, so I started jogging on the rooster’s alarm clock. And I eventually entered a marathon.”
“When life hands you lemons, I guess,” I laughed.
“So,” he said, “you want to move.”
“Well,” I rubbed my hands together, “we bought a plot of land from Andrea McClellan not too long ago, and we want to build our first house.”
“We love your online portfolio,” Vicki added. “You have that style we are looking for.”
“So-Cal, but not,” I rambled. “Modern, sleek, contemporary … ”
“Light, airy, open,” she continued, “with a skylight.”
“And a pool,” I added, “with a deck, and lots of space for entertaining.”
“And we want to build in smart capability,” Vicki went on.
“But it needs to be traditional,” I pointed out. “Not too avante garde.”
“But we don’t want the soccer mom look,” Vicki groaned with a roll of her eyes. “Ugh.”
Jim cleared his throat and smiled.
“You’re so high maintenance,” Vicki said to me.
“At least I’m not a chicken murderer,” I replied with a smirk.
“Attempted murder,” she corrected.
“Still has murder in it,” I snickered.
Jim laughed politely. “I think we can come up with something that matches your vision. Let me show you some of my concept work.”
He opened a book, and Vicki and I flipped through page after page, and my heart leapt at the sight of each house.
“This is perfect,” I pointed to one image, “we can just have him rebuild this one.”
“Oh, no wait,” Vicki pointed to another house, “this one is perfect.”
“Oh, I agree,” I nodded, “this one is dead on our vision.”
Suddenly, my phone buzzed in my pocket, and I glanced down to see who was calling me.
It was the prosecutor.
“Excuse me,” I said as I held up my finger to Jim.
Vicki and Jim continued to discuss our house plans, and I stepped out into the hallway to take the call.
“Henry Irving,” I answered.
“Henry,” Chet Levinson replied. “Glad to catch you.”
“Likewise,” I said.
“I wanted to give you an update on the Steele case,” he explained. “Your client is completely free. We got a confession.”
“What?” I asked as I blinked in surprise. “Allison confessed?”
“Yup,” he replied. “SPD questioned her with the tapes, and she admitted to everything.”
“What’s everything?” I questioned with a frown.
“Two days after the tape was made,” he said, “apparently, after Jerry dismissed the film rehearsal for lunch, Allison never went to lunch. Alfred Dumont got into an argument with Jerry, and then
