What in the… Nicholas Marshal tightened his grip on the cell phone, bringing it closer to his ear. He moved away from the window overlooking Capitol Street—one of the busiest thoroughfares—as the street was clogged with traffic, making it difficult for him to hear the caller. In the distance, thunder boomed as if trying to compete with the honks and roars of car engines from outside. The ominous weather soured his mood almost as much as the crazy woman on the phone. He scowled. Who could possibly be calling him on the first day of his new law practice and say something like that? Perhaps it was a prank. “I think you have the wrong number,” he snapped. “Nick, I mean it. I need your help. Now!” It only took him a second before he recognized the voice. “Vanessa? Is that you?” “Of course it is! Who else would be calling you in a panic this early in the morning?” What she said was true, but he still wondered why she was up at eight o’clock in the morning to begin with.
