Pippa was absolutely certain the real killer was still out there, and she needed to convince the police, but so far no one would speak with her about it. Since taking on the Wentworth case, she’d been dealing with a rash of threats on her office voice mail and one nasty postcard delivered to her home. All par for the course these days when representing an unpopular client. While she logged each incident, she knew a few random threats wouldn’t inspire anyone to take a second look at what appeared to be a solid conviction.
Another death would do it. Her stomach cramped at the thought.
She had been tempted to use her siblings as a sounding board or even ask for some hands-on help. All of them supported and lent their professional expertise to Colton Investigations, the family business investigative agency. But the team had its hands full at the moment, and the press ganging up on her was bad enough. No way would she drag that public relations quicksand closer to her siblings.
The music wasn’t helping anymore. Restless and feeling idle, she cued up a recording of the trial provided by Anna’s defense team and picked up where she’d left off, listening to the smooth, mellow voice of Detective Iglesias on the stand.
She remembered that day in court. He’d worn a charcoal suit and his wavy hair had been brushed back from his face. Short stubble had defined his jaw and the steady confidence in his warm brown eyes never wavered. Not even under cross-examination.
It was easy to understand why the jury had gravitated to him, taking his every word as unassailable truth. Even though Pippa knew better, it was easy to believe his testimony. He’d been the star witness for the prosecution, all but guaranteeing Anna’s conviction.
Her phone suddenly interrupted the flow of his voice, announcing an incoming call. She used the control on her steering wheel to answer. “You’ve reached Pippa Colton. How may I help you?”
“Hi, Pippa. It’s Elizabeth.” Her friend sounded miserable. “I’m sorry to bug you. I just couldn’t wait to hear how it went. Did Mom cooperate?”
More than anything else with this case, Pippa regretted that a mother-daughter relationship, already under pressure, had been nearly destroyed by the trial. Elizabeth and her father had been in the gallery every day to support Anna, but it hadn’t impressed the jury. And Elizabeth’s testimony as a character witness during sentencing had hit a sour note, giving the impression that she was fabricating a few good moments with her mom just for the hope of leniency. Her strident belief in her mother’s innocence came across as too little, too late.
It broke her heart to say it, but she had to be truthful. “I didn’t get to meet with her,” Pippa replied.
“Why not?” The worry in Elizabeth’s voice was sharp as a blade. “Did something happen?”
“Your mom is fine,” Pippa assured her. “They told me it was a system glitch on their end,” she hedged. “I’ll reschedule.”
“So she still doesn’t know I believe her.”
Elizabeth sounded utterly defeated. Pippa had seen this struggle between Elizabeth and her mom practically since day one of their friendship. The Wentworth mansion was impressive for all of the architecture heirlooms and history, but it would never be called a happy home during Anna’s reign.
“She knows it,” Pippa insisted. “You go out there every day.”
“Not today.”
“Well, no.” Because they’d thought one visitor per day was enough. Maybe if Elizabeth had been with her, she would’ve gotten inside. Too late to second-guess things now. “But you’ll be there tomorrow.”
“And every day after until this is over,” Elizabeth agreed.
Pippa swallowed her irritation with the runaround she’d been subjected to. “I’m glad to hear that. You may have to be the go-between right now.” The conversations wouldn’t be protected legally, but she didn’t see another option.
“What do you mean?”
“I think she’s annoyed the guards,” Pippa explained. “Which means they aren’t inclined to do anything that works in her favor. Or mine.”
Elizabeth grumbled. “I’ve warned Mom to cool it.”
Pippa laughed, though the situation wasn’t funny. “You really think your mom is going to listen to anyone right now?”
“A daughter can hope.”
“Agreed,” Pippa said. “I want you to hang on to that hope. I need you to hang on to that hope. Yes, it would be easier if she could find a measure of humility and soon, but I’m not holding my breath. In the meantime, please do what you can to reassure her that the guilty verdict isn’t permanent.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“And if possible, get her talking about Hicks. The man had another enemy, and your mom might not realize she knows who it is.”
“You think he talked to Mom about someone else he was seeing?”
“Probably not, but we have to ask. Maybe he talked with her about other interests. I can’t find any signs that the police looked very closely at anything beyond his relationship with her, but we both know there’s more to the story.”
“I’ll do my best,” Elizabeth repeated.
“Same here,” Pippa vowed, more motivated than ever to speak with Anna. The woman needed to understand how committed Elizabeth was to her mother’s cause. Most likely Anna had never been an easy person. Somewhere along the way she decided that being the wealthy Mrs. Wentworth meant avoiding everything she found uncomfortable or distasteful. She prioritized her idea of perfection over personal relationships, preferring to nurture power and influence rather than people. Having watched all of the heartache and strife through the years, Pippa worried that no one would ever convince Anna how much her daughter loved her.
“You sound so sure of yourself.”
“This is one small setback, that’s all,” Pippa said. Far bigger challenges awaited them.
Overall, Pippa preferred the challenges. An easy sea never made a good sailor. So she had embraced every speed bump and roadblock on the way to her goals. She didn’t mind when people underestimated her focusing on appearances and ignoring her grit and steel spine until it was too late. She considered that her secret advantage.
“I’ll be back in town soon,” Pippa said. “Let me know how it goes with your visit tomorrow.”
“I will. Thanks for everything you’re doing, Pippa.”
The call ended, but Pippa was still unsettled. Since she’d agreed to tackle the task of proving Anna’s innocence, talking with Elizabeth was no longer easy. There was too much weight loading down every conversation. She didn’t regret helping a friend; she just hadn’t expected the burden would be so heavy.
Copyright © 2020 by Harlequin Books S.A.
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ISBN-13: 9781488064227
Her P.I. Protector
Copyright © 2020 by Jennifer Morey
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, co
mpanies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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