Read Online The Azalea Assault by Alyse Carlson - Free Book Online Page A

She took out her cell phone and was about to search for the number for the Hotel Roanoke when she thought of somebody else who might have Jane Duffy’s cell phone number. She pressed her speed dial and stepped out front for some privacy.
    “Daddy?”
    “Well, hello, sunshine! Are you all right?”
    “I take it the police have talked to you?”
    “They have. What a hassle!”
    Cam thought he sounded as secretly excited as Petunia. She wondered if there’d been some mutant morbidity gene that had skipped her, but she managed not to ask, because she needed a real answer, not a joking one.
    “Listen, Daddy, it’s awful, but it’s also awful because the magazine might leave if there’s no photographer, and the photo editor won’t even look at Annie’s portfolio.”
    “What? That’s outrageous! She’s a talented girl!” Cam smiled at what a fan her father was of Annie.
    “Exactly, but the other person with a say is Jane Duffy. You didn’t happen to get her phone number last night, did you?”
    “Of course I did, but I can do you one better. I’m picking her up for supper in half an hour. Why don’t you meet us at Arzu for a glass of wine and show her Annie’s work? Then she and I can eat supper.”
    “That’s perfect! Thank you, Daddy!” Arzu was a nicer restaurant with Mediterranean food, one of her father’s favorites. She thought this was a sign he thought highly of Ms. Duffy.
    Cam went back inside to collect the portfolio.
    “This is great work,” Tom told her as she zipped the case.
    “Beautiful,” Hannah concurred.
    “Any idea what Ian’s issue is with Annie?” Cam asked.
    Tom looked away, so Hannah braved it. “He said something about a psycho ex-girlfriend. I think she reminds him of someone. But then when he talked to her, Annie called his bluff on a few things, which he also doesn’t like.”
    “Ian said it was a good thing they’d gotten Jean-Jacques to be the photographer, because a dump like this couldn’t possibly have any talent of its own,” Tom admitted. “Then Annie rattled off a dozen or so names—a few I knew. I didn’t know they were from here. It just set Ian off. He likes to be the expert. It almost seemed like they knew each other.”
    “Well, I doubt that. Anyway, Jane’s going to look at the portfolio tonight. Does she trump Ian?”
    “She will when we point out he never even looked at the work,” Tom said. Hannah edged closer to Tom, putting a hand on his shoulder. Cam wondered if this was a romantic getaway for the pair. They seemed to want to stay.
    Hannah wouldn’t meet Cam’s eyes now, but Tom looked sincere.
    “Okay, so the trial is with Ms. Duffy. I’ll call you, or ask her to, when she says yea or nay, so you know what’s coming,” Cam said.
    She took their numbers and then went to tell the boardthe decision was in Jane Duffy’s hands and she would see the portfolio that night. Cam was hopeful. “Is anyone headed back to town in the next half hour?” She preferred not to wait for Petunia. She hated having things unsettled.
    “I can give you a ride,” Samantha offered. “I have an appointment in a little bit and it’s on my way.”
    Things seemed to be lining up perfectly, except for the new mystery about the tension between Annie and Ian, but surely that wasn’t too big a deal.
    S amantha’s Jaguar had the softest leather seats Cam had ever sat in.
    “Thank you so much. I really need to buy that car I have my eye on, but I’m still a few thousand dollars away from the down payment.”
    “Oh, honey, it’s no trouble. Far better to hold off and find what you want than to settle.” Cam thought the statement wasn’t about cars.
    After an awkward silence, Cam asked the question that had been nagging at her all day. “Where were you this morning, Ms. Hollister?”
    “Sleeping like the dead!” Samantha gasped, realizing what she’d said. Tears sprang to her eyes, and her knuckles went white on the steering wheel as she clutched it, but