Page 85 of Perfect Pitch

Kane nods over his shoulder at me. I jerk up my chin knowing I’m to give Beckett the illusion of his freedom but still am to follow him into the LLF suite. He goes up in the first elevator; I wait for another—giving Beckett about three minutes lead time.

When I arrive in the suite, I’m surprised to find the front desk unmanned and the heavy mahogany doors cracked. There are raised voices before Beckett’s shouts, “I hope you punched the fucker who got in her face.”

“Kind of hard to do that to myself.” I recognize the voice of Ward Burke—Carys’s brother and legal partner.

Beckett’s fury wafts through to where I’m standing when he declares, “Then allow me.”

I race through the doors to stop Beckett from doing something that can’t be undone when I hear Angie shout, “Stop it, Beckett! It’s fine! I handled it. Okay? And just to let you know, you have much bigger issues to be worrying about.”

Through the clear glass of the conference room, I see the titan-haired gatekeeper to Carys Burke-Lennan’s legal empire drop an empty coffee cup to the floor, the contents of which are epically displayed on Beckett’s chest. He’s oblivious to the mess as he rasps out a single question. “Why?”

Angie answers obliquely, “I could be looking at her right now.”

There’s a pregnant pause where no one moves. From my vantage point, I’m not certain anyone’s breathing. A bleak tension descends over Beckett’s face. His voice sounds ruined when he rasps, “You spoke with Kensington, then?”

Kensington? It takes a half a second for my mind to realize he means Austyn. What does Austyn have to do with Beckett? I creep a little closer.

Angie’s voice is spectacularly clear, “No, but I met her mother at Redemption when Austyn was playing last night.”

“Paige? You talked to Paige?” Beckett is incredulous, but not more than me. Paige is Austyn’s mother.

What do they have to do with Beckett Miller?

Angie confirms, “She’s lovely.”

Beckett’s face is tortured.

What do Austyn and Paige Kensington have to do with the complete emotional collapse of Beckett Miller? I’m debating contacting Kane when Beckett’s movement catches my attention.

He lifts his hands and digs the heels into his eye sockets.

Eyes.

Eyes that are bright blue—like... blue orchids.

Christ.

Is it possible Beckett Miller passed along his unique blue eyes as well as his musical talent to a woman I haven’t been able to stop thinking about since the moment I met her?

I tune back in to hear Beckett plead, “What else did you find out, love? I’ll take anything. Any little bit of information.”

Angie stammers, “Just that she—Austyn—cashed out her college fund to give this—and I can only assume Paige meant DJ’ing—a try. Oh, and her mother is proud of her.”

More murmuring before Beckett asks the room at large, “So, what’s next? What should I do?”

“Something you’re so good at,” Carys declares. I’m so stupefied by what I’ve pieced together, I don’t even recall her entering the room. This is a disaster on so many levels. Someone could have been taking potshots at Beckett and because of what’s unraveling in front of me, I’m losing my focus.

Beckett leans forward eagerly waiting for some kind of instruction. I find myself doing the same.

Carys flatly declares, “Wait, Beckett. We have to do this right, not just for you but for that family. There can be no uncertainty. Do you understand me? I need to have someone start looking into things and this isn’t a priority for them.”

Morosely, Beckett accepts Carys’s decree, but I don’t have to. I have other ways of being able to gather information.

Like, directly from the source.

Even as I quietly back out of the LLF office and take the elevator downstairs, I realize I’m going to have to dig in deeper about Austyn’s past myself.

Then I’m going to have to take on Beckett.

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