Unsafe Harbor by Jessica Speart

Author:Jessica Speart
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2009-09-16T04:00:00+00:00

Eleven

A friend had once told me the three requirements for successfully living in Manhattan were money, money, and more money. He’d been right. I was roughly jerked back to reality as I caught sight of my Trailblazer. Someone had side-swiped the SUV where it sat parked. Hogan would have a shit fit if I reported it and he learned what I’d been up to. I’d have little choice but to pay for the repair myself. That meant brown bagging it the rest of the year. My only hope for financial solvency would be to win the jackpot playing lotto. I examined the damage and then slid in behind the wheel.

More than anything, I was beginning to find these über-rich people, and their petty problems, depressing. What in hell did they have to complain about, anyway? The fact that their bedsheets took a few extra weeks to come back from a special dry cleaner in Milwaukee?

“Oh for chrissakes, Porter. Suck it up. You’ve got rich people-itis,” my pain-in-the-ass inner voice told me.

Unfortunately, my subconscious was correct. I felt like Cinderella, doomed to scrub pots and pans forever after having missed the ball. Maybe my fairy godmother would be able to help me. I picked up my cell phone and called Terri.

“Hi sweetie. Is something wrong?” he asked upon hearing my voice.

“What are you doing? Looking in your crystal ball?” I dolefully joked.

“No. It’s just that you sound like hell,” came his smart retort.

“Well, I’m working on a case that’s beginning to drive me a bit crazy,” I admitted. “But aside from that, I’m about to set you on the road to riches.”

“What are you talking about?” Terri asked, his voice crackling with excitement.

“Remember I predicted that all New York society would soon be clamoring at Mr. T’s door? Well, guess what? You just got your first appointment with a real honest-to-goodness socialite,” I revealed.

“Don’t toy with me, Rach,” Terri warned. “Not today. I’m feeling bloated, and I swear to God I have PMS.”

“Believe me, this is no joke,” I replied. “I just came from a visit with Mrs. Muffy Carson Ellsworth and she’s a big fan of yours. In fact, she wants to arrange a face-to-face private reading.”

“Are you kidding me? That’s unbelievable!” Terri yelped into the phone. “I feel as if I’ve just died and gone to High Society heaven. Do you know what this means? One word from her, and the crème de la crème of New York will be rushing to see me. How did you ever get in to her, anyway?”

“It’s a long story,” I responded. “But in return, I need something from you.”

“Just name it and it’s yours. How about Eric’s firstborn child?” he offered. “God knows, I could use a break from Lily.”

“Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of information. Tell me what you know about a guy named Giancarlo Giamonte,” I requested.

Terri emitted a low, guttural laugh. “I take it that you’re referring to Mr. Ralph Goldberg, formerly of Queens, New York.”

“Are

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