what did it hurt? She could definitely use the business and if she did a good job, and Sophia wasn’t too disappointed, she might get some clients out of the deal.
Suddenly, a thought occurred to her and she looked back at Sophia. “Did you remarry?” If the one in a million chance happened to pan out and Sammy was still alive, Taylor couldn’t help but wonder if there was a Mr. Sophia in the picture who wouldn’t be nearly as happy with the news.
Sophia looked down at her hands and twisted a large diamond around her ring finger. “I came close a couple of times, but it wasn’t right. No one’s ever been right since my Sammy.”
The forlorn look on Sophia’s face tugged a bit on Taylor’s heart. She always tried to keep her personal feelings out of her work, but the thought of Sophia pining for Sammy for almost three decades was the sort of thing made-for-TV movies were written about.
“I can pay extra,” Sophia said. “Double whatever you normally charge.”
“That won’t be necessary. I’ll take your case, Ms. Lambert, but only if you understand a couple of things—one, shrimpers usually cover a wide area depending on where the product is, so despite the fact that your friend saw this man on a specific dock, he could live miles away. It could take a lot of hours to locate him, if I can locate him at all.”
“The money isn’t the issue, and I understand the vastness of the task.”
Taylor wondered if someone like Sophia Lambert ever really accepted failure in others to provide them with what they wanted, but as long as she paid her bill, Taylor was willing to deal with some dramatics when things didn’t turn out the way Sophia wanted.
“Two,” Taylor continued, “if I find this man, and by some miracle he turns out to be Sammy, I can’t force him to meet with you. I will provide you with a means to locate him, but I can’t make him engage.”
“Of course you can’t.”
Taylor pulled out a contract and jotted down her hourly rate and a deposit. “Then I think you’ve found your detective,” she said and pushed the paper across the desk. “I’ll need the deposit to get started. I’ll provide you a report every three days along with an itemized list of hours and expenses, unless I find something sooner.”
Sophia didn’t even glance at the contract before signing and pulling out her wallet. “I hope cash is okay. I don’t want anyone to know…”
“Cash is fine. Do you want a receipt?”
“No. I trust you.”
“Great. Then the only other thing I need from you is a picture of Sammy. I can have someone age it. It’s not an exact science, but it gives me a little something to go on.”
Sophia perked up. “Oh, I forgot to tell you.” She reached down and picked up a manila envelope that she’d brought in with her. Carefully, she pulled a sheet of paper out of the envelope and handed it to Taylor. “My friend is a somewhat famous artist. She’s even been commissioned to paint royalty. She drew the man she saw.”
Taylor only had to glance at the drawing to know just how good the artist was. Every line, every tiny detail was so perfectly depicted that it looked almost like a black-and-white photograph. If Sophia’s friend was as accurate with the details as she was talented with her drawing, then this picture should be easily recognized by anyone who knew the man from the dock.
“Let me make a copy,” Taylor said. “You’ll probably want to keep the original…at least for now.”
Sophia looked relieved. “Yes, that would be great.”
Taylor made the copy and handed the drawing back to Sophia, who rose from her chair and held out her hand. “I really appreciate you taking this case,” Sophia said. “I know it’s going to be a long, boring job that probably won’t lead to anything, but if I didn’t try…”
Taylor shook her hand. “I understand. I’m going to get you answers. Not knowing is always worse.” A fact that Taylor understood all too
Suddenly, a thought occurred to her and she looked back at Sophia. “Did you remarry?” If the one in a million chance happened to pan out and Sammy was still alive, Taylor couldn’t help but wonder if there was a Mr. Sophia in the picture who wouldn’t be nearly as happy with the news.
Sophia looked down at her hands and twisted a large diamond around her ring finger. “I came close a couple of times, but it wasn’t right. No one’s ever been right since my Sammy.”
The forlorn look on Sophia’s face tugged a bit on Taylor’s heart. She always tried to keep her personal feelings out of her work, but the thought of Sophia pining for Sammy for almost three decades was the sort of thing made-for-TV movies were written about.
“I can pay extra,” Sophia said. “Double whatever you normally charge.”
“That won’t be necessary. I’ll take your case, Ms. Lambert, but only if you understand a couple of things—one, shrimpers usually cover a wide area depending on where the product is, so despite the fact that your friend saw this man on a specific dock, he could live miles away. It could take a lot of hours to locate him, if I can locate him at all.”
“The money isn’t the issue, and I understand the vastness of the task.”
Taylor wondered if someone like Sophia Lambert ever really accepted failure in others to provide them with what they wanted, but as long as she paid her bill, Taylor was willing to deal with some dramatics when things didn’t turn out the way Sophia wanted.
“Two,” Taylor continued, “if I find this man, and by some miracle he turns out to be Sammy, I can’t force him to meet with you. I will provide you with a means to locate him, but I can’t make him engage.”
“Of course you can’t.”
Taylor pulled out a contract and jotted down her hourly rate and a deposit. “Then I think you’ve found your detective,” she said and pushed the paper across the desk. “I’ll need the deposit to get started. I’ll provide you a report every three days along with an itemized list of hours and expenses, unless I find something sooner.”
Sophia didn’t even glance at the contract before signing and pulling out her wallet. “I hope cash is okay. I don’t want anyone to know…”
“Cash is fine. Do you want a receipt?”
“No. I trust you.”
“Great. Then the only other thing I need from you is a picture of Sammy. I can have someone age it. It’s not an exact science, but it gives me a little something to go on.”
Sophia perked up. “Oh, I forgot to tell you.” She reached down and picked up a manila envelope that she’d brought in with her. Carefully, she pulled a sheet of paper out of the envelope and handed it to Taylor. “My friend is a somewhat famous artist. She’s even been commissioned to paint royalty. She drew the man she saw.”
Taylor only had to glance at the drawing to know just how good the artist was. Every line, every tiny detail was so perfectly depicted that it looked almost like a black-and-white photograph. If Sophia’s friend was as accurate with the details as she was talented with her drawing, then this picture should be easily recognized by anyone who knew the man from the dock.
“Let me make a copy,” Taylor said. “You’ll probably want to keep the original…at least for now.”
Sophia looked relieved. “Yes, that would be great.”
Taylor made the copy and handed the drawing back to Sophia, who rose from her chair and held out her hand. “I really appreciate you taking this case,” Sophia said. “I know it’s going to be a long, boring job that probably won’t lead to anything, but if I didn’t try…”
Taylor shook her hand. “I understand. I’m going to get you answers. Not knowing is always worse.” A fact that Taylor understood all too
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