She leaned even farther across the table. "Do you know why I'm in here, Olivia? Because I was a foolish girl playing at being a good witch, with amulets and brews to protect my family from colds and misfortune. Then someone tipped off the police, claiming we were responsible for these ritualistic murders, and my silly Wiccan baubles damned us more than DNA ever could. Whatever you think you're experiencing, you must tell no one. For your own sake."
I met her gaze. "What am I experiencing?"
She pulled back. "I have no idea. You've been under a lot of stress, and--"
"I'm sorry I bothered you with this," I said, rising stiffly.
She put her hand on mine as the guard cleared her throat in warning. "Don't be angry, Olivia," she said. "I know that look. Your grandma used to call it 'getting your dander up.' You'd do it every time--"
"Don't."
"I'm just saying--"
"I came to talk about this. If you won't help, I'll go."
I could hear the hurt in my voice and I could feel it in the way I hesitated, waiting for her to change her mind. A few seconds passed, seemingly endless, and I realized I had to follow through, had to leave. Then her mouth opened and my heart jumped in relief.
"I'd like to speak to Gabriel," she said.
Another three seconds of silence before I found my voice, as steady as I could manage. "You want to speak to--?"
"He knows, doesn't he? You've told him about these omens."
My disappointment burned away in a flare of anger. "Whether I--"
"He knows. I can tell." She leaned over the table. "I've been trying to stay out of this, Olivia, but I need to ask. What exactly is the nature of your relationship with him?"
"I hired him to help me investigate your case."
"And otherwise?" she asked.
"Otherwise what?"
"There's something going on between you two, and I'm going to be blunt, because I need to ask. Are you sleeping with him?"
"No."
"Is there any romantic--?"
"No. Gabriel has never made anything even resembling a pass at me. Whatever you think of his ethics, he knows the grounds for disbarment. Hell, he probably has a laminated list in his wallet."
"So it's a simple client-lawyer relationship?" She waved at the door with its small glass pane, blacked out by the wall of Gabriel's back. "He's right there. He's been there since he left, and he only left because you wanted him to go. He jumped to do your bidding. Now he's hovering there, waiting for any sign that you need him."
"Gabriel doesn't jump. Or hover."
"Nor does he give up his evening to accompany a mere client on a visit to her imprisoned mother. Is he on the clock now, Olivia?"
"You're right--I'm not just a client. We worked side by side on your case. I wouldn't presume to call him a friend, but he offered to come with me and I'm happy for the company." I looked at her. "Is that what you want to talk to him about? Our relationship? Because if it is--"
She shook her head. "I want to talk about the case. My case."
I nodded brusquely and left.
CHAPTER SIX
As I waited for Gabriel, I fought against disappointment and hurt. Pamela was the only person who could help me understand what I was going through. And she'd refused. Not only refused, but acted as if I was an overimaginative child.
I thought I felt my cell phone vibrate in my back pocket. Which was impossible, because I'd left it in the car to avoid turning it in at security. Still, the sensation startled me enough that I turned and . . .