Leigh was tempted to tell Vanessa to get another lawyer. But every time she thought about dumping her, she pictured her sitting on that rumpled motel bed, with that terrible dye job and that pleading look in her eyes.

I don’t know where else to turn. I need help.

Leigh had agreed to help her. But now she felt like she was walking on a tightrope and the slightest wobble would send her plunging into the abyss.

And what was the abyss? Professional humiliation, for one. The things Vanessa had asked Leigh to do were either illegal or unethical or both and could get her disbarred. And the things Leigh had agreed to do weren’t a whole lot better. Leigh had to watch her step. But it wasn’t just professional ethics she was worried about.

The kettle whistled, and Leigh snatched it off the stovetop before it made her head explode. She took down her favorite Snoopy mug and poured water over the tea bag, then gazed at the selection of groceries arrayed on the counter. She was making her mom’s chicken noodle soup tonight, in a determined effort to get rid of the headache and queasy stomach that had been plaguing her since Sunday when she’d left Brandon’s house.

Don’t think about him.

She couldn’t go there. Not yet. Until she got this thing with Vanessa sorted out, she couldn’t even think about Brandon or how he was going to react when he learned about all this. But of course, that was all she could think about, and she’d tossed and turned all last night worrying about it.

Leigh grabbed some kitchen shears and went to the patio, switching on the fountain for light as she stepped outside. The air felt cool and crisp, and the waxing moon overhead cast her rosebushes in a silver light.

Leigh crouched beside the trio of clay pots and clipped a few springs of rosemary for the soup. Her mint was growing like crazy because of all the rain, and she clipped some of that, too, to add to her tea.

A flash of movement caught her eye, and she jumped back, losing her balance and falling on her butt.

Sherlock.

The skinny black cat perched atop the brick wall and gazed down at her, swishing his tail back and forth. He seemed cranky with her, and she realized it had been days since she’d lounged on her patio and fed him a sandwich scrap.

Leigh stood and brushed the dust off the back of her skirt.

The low rumble of a truck made Leigh’s shoulders tense. She listened closely as the truck stopped in front of her house and the engine cut off.

“Damn it,” she muttered, heading back inside.