Wrong time for my cell phone to ring.
“Don’t take it, Jack,” Guin said. “You’re off duty. You’re mine for tonight, okay?” Her smile dimmed, and worry shadowed her beautiful features. “Okay, Jack?”
I glanced at the caller ID. “This’ll just take a second.”
The caller was Andy Cushman, and I couldn’t believe it. Andy was a rock, but the voice on the phone was strained to breaking with tears.
“Jack. I need you to come to the house. I need you here right now.”
“Andy, this is not a good time. Trust me, it isn’t. What’s wrong?”
“It’s Shelby. She’s dead, Jack.”
Chapter 2
DEAD? HOW COULD Shelby be dead? There had to be some mistake. But how could there be?
I was the one who had introduced Shelby to Andy. I was best man at their wedding less than six months ago. I’d had dinner with them last week at Musso and Frank. Andy told me they were going to name their first kid Jack. Not John or Jackson, just Jack.
Had Shelby suffered a heart attack-at her age? Had there been a car accident? Andy hadn’t said, but he was devastated. And what hurt Andy hurt me.
I stuffed a wad of bills into the valet’s hand, escorted a visibly upset Guin to the ballroom with apologies, and handed her over to Matt Damon. When I got back out to the street, my car was waiting.
I was in shock as I sped toward the Cushmans’ home in my over-the-top sports car. The car was a gift from a client whose terrible secret I kept. When it wasn’t in the shop for repairs, it was a cop magnet.
I slowed as I entered the Bluffs section of Pacific Palisades, the heavily patrolled village of small shops and homes within walking distance of the ocean. Ten minutes later, I braked in Andy’s circular driveway.