Identity Crisis (Sam McRae Mystery 1)

“So Donna—”

“Donna ... God, she’s like a mother to me.” Melanie took a deep breath. “She’s really something. But I have to show her I can stand on my own.”

She looked at me. “You are amazing. I wish I had my act together like you.”

I resisted the urge to burst out laughing. “Don’t kid yourself. My act isn’t all that together.”

“But you didn’t even have parents and look at you. A lawyer with your own business. That’s something.”

I guessed that it was. I also had a married boyfriend. I had a never-ending parade of bills and a constant struggle to keep up with them.

We left the apartment and cruised Route 1, until we found a decent-looking budget motel within walking distance of restaurants. Getting out, she said, “Wait a minute. What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Aren’t they after you, too?”

That had occurred to me. “Maybe it would be a good idea to get a room here. The rates are good.”

“We could share again.”

I balked. I didn’t want to offend Melanie, but I crave privacy. “Actually, I’m thinking about running by the club tonight. Check up on what Schaeffer and Garvey did there. I may stay late, and I don’t want to wake you.”

She shrugged. “OK.”

I felt bad. Sharing would save her—and me—some bucks. But, at the end of the day, I just feel most relaxed when I’m alone, free of the need to make nice—even with a significant other.

We got adjoining rooms in back so my purple car wouldn’t be on display. I left Melanie and ran by the office to pick up some stuff. I managed to sneak by Sheila’s desk without questions or a lecture. Jamila had called. I wanted to talk to her anyway, so I returned the call while it was fresh in mind. She was stunned to discover that Melanie was my client.

“Well,” she said. “It’s a small world after all, huh?”

“Not only that,” I said, “but she’s the client who disappeared.”

“The one whose ex-boyfriend was murdered?”

“The same.”

“Man.” Jamila sounded incredulous. “You can really pick ’em, huh?”

“Yeah, I have a knack for it. And, by the way, since when do you handle litigation?”

She sighed. “I don’t. I hate it, but I got stuck with this thing, because I was the only one who knew the case and no one else would touch it.”

“That much of a dog?”

“Not really. Everyone’s throwing up their hands and saying, ‘I don’t know anything about this area of the law.’ Well, who does? No one’s an expert on identity theft law.”

“By the way, remember that ten grand someone tried to borrow in my name? It’s probably connected to your case. I have accounts at First Bank.”

“Really?” she said. “This gets more interesting all the time. So are you dropping the client?”

“Well, no,” I said, drawing the word out. “She’s still my client. There’s no conflict of interest here. I haven’t lost any money because of the information leak.” At least, I didn’t think so. I was still waiting for my credit report.

For a moment, she was silent. “Are you serious?”

“Yes.”

“She’s still your client. Even though she may have tried to steal from you?”