Page 146 of Sapphire Sunset

There was a stilted silence from the other end.

“I’ll have to run that by my board,” Nicole finally said.

“Let me know.”

Connor was about to hang up when Nicole said his name,softly and without her usual bite.

“I’m here,” he said.

“Just…I… You’re a very perceptive person. That’s all.”

She hung up, probably because she was afraid of slipping andrevealing other details of their internal negotiations.

“Well?” Naser asked.

“I was right. Sylvia Milton made them a donation they couldn’trefuse.”

“Shit,” Naser whispered.

For a while, neither of them said anything. Finally, Connorset his phone down on the nightstand. The bathroom door was half open, and itshoney-colored lamps sent a triangle of light across the nightstand’s glass-toppedsurface. He’d struggled to set foot inside the bathroom that day. The stress ofhis fight with Logan had made him even more vulnerable to traumatic flashbacksof Rodney’s subtle but menacing assault.

But suddenly, those memories were striking very differentnerves.

“I have an idea,” Connor finally said.

“Don’t save a job he doesn’t want, Blondie. That’s not goingto be the best thing for you two in the long run.”

“It’s not about the job,” Connor said. “It’s about him.”

The judge was so furious with Rodney for violatingthe conditions of his bail she’d ordered him into Orange County Central Men’sJail. While he’d looked pathetic the night he’d broken into Sapphire Cove,after several nights in the company of accused murderers, Connor’s uncle now lookedbroken. His yellow jumpsuit was so rumpled it looked like he’d been spendingmost of his time in his cell curled into the fetal position. No longer shiningwith product, his hair was a dry mat atop his head, his eyes both haunted and vulnerable.Expectant. They were also clear.Sober.

Connor wasn’t sure if that would aid his agenda or not.

Connor probably didn’t look much better. He’d tossed andturned most of the night, distracting himself from how badly he missed Logan’sweight in the bed next to him, with thoughts of all the ways his plan could gowrong.

A new lawyer was sitting next to Rodney at the meetingroom’s metal table, a crisp and professional-looking woman with a Jackie-O bob,a strand of thick pearls, and an expression that said nothing much fazed her.She nodded as Connor took a seat across from them. Because Rodney couldn’tshake hands, thanks to the cuffs that secured them to the table in front ofhim, none of them did.

“I don’t suppose we can do this alone,” Connor asked.

“No, I don’t think so,” the lawyer said. “And just to confirm,we’re here to discuss the events of your encounter at the hotel this week andnot the other charges. Does that continue to be our understanding?”

Connor nodded. The lawyer nodded, and then Connor looked tohis uncle. “How are you?”

“Shitty,” Rodney answered. “You?”

“Dealing with Sylvia Milton,” Connor said.

“Yeah, well, maybe when we announce my plea, she’ll back offa bit.”

“So you didn’t change your mind?” Connor asked.

“Why would I change my mind?” Rodney asked.

“Change of heart. Change of blood-alcohol level. That sortof thing.”

“Yeah, well, I meant it.” He studied his handcuffs.

“I had them review all the security camera footage from thatday,” Connor said.

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