Always Room for Cupcakes (Cupcakes 1)

“Well, I don’t know…”

“Maybe you should look into it,” she suggested. “You were essentially doing all of Moose’s dirty work anyway, and you worked for him for over a year, right? Seems like clients wouldn’t have a hard time throwing you their business.”

Not really knowing how to reply, I walked her to the door in silence, my head spinning with possibilities.

“Again, thanks so much for calling me. I’m thrilled you decided to do this. I’ll do you justice, I promise.”

“I know you will,” I replied, then added. “We’ll have to set up a girl’s night soon. Something involving lots of booze. We’ve all been dying to hear how your date went.”

Carmen squealed and said, “I’d love that! But, in answer to the dating thing, let’s just say, I’m still on the market. Not everyone is lucky enough to have a random hot motorcycle man pick them up on the side of the road when they’re running from drug dealers.”

Another laugh burst out of me, and I thought, I really need to keep this girl around.

“Just sayin’,” she added with a grin.

We said our goodbyes and as soon as she was gone I sent out a group text to her, Amy May, and Bea, asking when would be a good night to get together and blow off steam.

Then I went to the computer and searched: How to be a Private Investigator.

“Hello?” I said cautiously as I lifted my cell to my ear. The number was local, but unknown, and after all the hype surrounding Carmen’s expose, I’d been getting a lot of phone calls.

I don’t know why I still answered…

“Delilah Horton?” a deep male voice asked.

“Yes?” I replied, ready to hang up if it was another out-of-town reporter. I’d given the only interview I planned on giving on the subject of the Chavez brothers.

“Ma’am, this is Branson Braswell, Mr. Samuel Sturgis’s attorney.”

“I’m sorry, you must have the wrong person. I don’t know a Samuel Sturgis.”

“I believe you knew him as Moose,” the deep voice replied.

“Moose?” I asked as pain hit me in the chest at the memories hearing that name invoked.

“Yes, ma’am. I’d like to meet with you, maybe set up a time for you to come by the office?”

“The office?” I asked again, knowing that I kept repeating what he said, but confused as to the nature of his call.

“Or, if you’d rather, I can come to you. Meet you wherever you’d like. I won’t take up much of your time, Ms. Horton.”

“Um, I’m at Jake’s right now.” I looked up at the clock over the bar and was about to say I could meet him in an hour, but he replied before I could.

“I’m actually just a block away, I’ll be there in a minute.”

I pulled my phone away from my ear and looked at it.

He’d hung up.

What a strange turn of events. I was at Jake’s waiting for Cade to meet me for lunch, and now I had some lawyer coming to talk to me about Moose.

Did lawyers make house calls … or bar and grill calls, in this case?

My life had been such a whirlwind lately that I wondered how anythin

g still managed to surprise me, but this did. What could Moose’s lawyer want with me?

I sipped my diet Pepsi, eyes on the door, wondering what the lawyer would look like. The voice had been nice, but you could hardly tell by a voice on the phone how someone would look.