The short, petite woman who stood in my doorway had pale skin and light brown hair that fell in luxurious waves past her shoulders was Amber Warner.

She was dressed in a pink pencil skirt and a floral blouse. Her eyes were covered by large, vintage sunglasses. She held a folder under her left arm. Her right arm extended to shake my hand.

“Cora Maguire? How do you do, my name is Amber. Do you have a few minutes?”

I was so shocked, I could not respond. I just stood aside as she walked past me and into my apartment. I closed the door behind her, habit taking over for my numbed mind. This woman was accused of murdering her boss in cold blood. She probably did it, too, as Asher was fond of saying, he didn’t represent innocent people. What the hell was she doing in my apartment?

She sat down at my kitchen table and, as if to answer my unspoken question, began talking.

“I need your help, Ms. Maguire. Please, sit.”

Although it felt strange to be invited to sit in my own house, I sat. I felt so tense that I wondered how I was able to bend my legs to get into the chair.

“I saw you at my arraignment. You’re working for my lawyer. I think that you can help me.”

“I think you misunderstood,” I said cautiously. I didn’t know if this woman was even stable. How was she able to find out where I lived? I had to keep things calm and find out why she was interested in me without upsetting her. “I am just a summer intern. I’m not a lawyer yet, and I don’t really know anything about the case. I’m sorry, but I don’t know how I could help you.”

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“I know exactly who you are and you can help me. First things first, though, you should know that I didn’t kill Art.” She must have seen the skepticism on my face. “You may not trust me, but it is the truth. I am being set up. I didn’t like Art. He was always a bit handsy, especially with younger actresses, but I wouldn’t have murdered him. There is something else going on, but I can’t figure out what it is. That is why I need your help.”

I did not trust this woman, but her words resonated. I knew it was foolish to think I could discern the essence of a person upon meeting them, but she didn’t seem like a killer. I thought back to the restaurant last night, those men in the hallway. They must have been talking about the case. If Amber was set up to take the rap, why put so much pressure on Asher to get her off?

“So, if it wasn’t you, who killed Mr. Crane?”

She sank back into the chair, deflating.

“I wish I knew. Art had a lot of friends, but he had made more than a few enemies along the way. But this is Hollywood, people talk behind your back at parties, leak stories to TMZ, they don’t blow your brains out in your office. I don’t know who did it, but I think it has something to do with the insurance.”

“Insurance? Like his life insurance policy? You think his wife did it?”

“No. The insurance on the film. Art had pulled together a lot of different pieces for this film that was just about to begin production. Now, with him gone, it is going to fall apart. They can’t do it without him.”

“I don’t understand.”

“A few weeks before he died, I saw an insurance contract worth twenty million dollars. The beneficiary was some company I didn’t recognize. I tried looking it up, but there was no website, no information about it online at all. I was going to ask Art about it, but he was out of town and by the time he got back, I had forgotten about it. That kind of production insurance was not uncommon, but now I am worried that perhaps someone had taken out the contract with the intention of killing Art and collecting the twenty million.”

Money as a motive for murder made sense. But then again, so did more personal feelings. I didn’t get any sense from Amber that she harbored any kind of anger toward the victim, though. She was calm and reasonable. But the thing that made me believe her was that everything fit perfectly with what I had seen and heard with Asher. All except one thing.

“Amber, say I believe you. If whoever is behind the insurance scheme and the murder wants you to take the fall, why would they hire you the best defense attorney in the city?”

She sighed. Lines of worry creased her otherwise flawless skin.

“Getting me off was part of the deal to keep me quiet. I was supposed to take the fall, but they would pay for my defense and make sure I didn’t get convicted. Then I would get some money once it was all done.”

“So, what is the problem? Asher will probably win the case. Why do you need my help?”

“You’ve been seen with him in a…social capacity. And you are working with him. I think you might be able to get through to him.”

I arched my eyebrow at her, inviting her to elaborate. She obliged.

“He is in danger. The people who hired him apparently didn’t anticipate how thorough his investigation would be. He is getting close to finding out what really happened. If he does that, he could present that as a defense and this whole thing will come crashing down. These people aren’t going to let that happen. I’m worried that they are going to just kill me. Asher, too.”

I felt my stomach constrict into knots. Even though I didn’t know this woman enough to trust her, what she said fit perfectly with the conversations I had overheard that morning and the night before. Asher was in trouble. And he knew it.

Even if he didn’t really care about me, even if I didn’t mean anything to him, I couldn’t just sit idly by and watch him get hurt. Not if I had the means to prevent it.

“What can I do?” I asked the stranger sitting at my kitchen table. I had decided to trust her as much as she seemed to be trusting me. It was a risk, to be sure, but the risk of doing nothing and pretending that nothing was wrong was greater.

“You need to talk to Asher. Get him to drop his investigation. Just do his best to poke holes in the prosecution’s case and get an acquittal. But get him to stop digging. Please.”

I promised to do what I could, which seemed to be enough for her. And then just as suddenly as she had shown up, Amber Warner was out my door and gone into the warm LA afternoon.