“Mr. McCarty this is my friend, Todd Hartman.”
Todd stood and shook Ward's hand with a firm assuredness.
“Mr. Hartman, it's a pleasure to meet you. I didn't expect you to come right over.”
“Call me Todd. We had lunch earlier and Leslie said you needed some help recovering something, and I've got f orty- five minutes before I'm due back in the office, so I figured if you came back in time and had a few minutes we could see how I might help you.”
“Please come to my office and we can talk,” Ward said.
He led Todd into his office and they sat opposite each other at the conference table. Todd placed his aluminum briefcase on the floor beside him.
“Leslie says you want to recover a model car that was stolen.”
“That's pretty much it.”
“Have you called the police?”
“No. I don't think law enforcement would be interested.”
“What's the value?”
“I've never thought about it. I suppose to a serious collector, it's worth a thousand or more, but its sentimental value is immeasurable.”
“Tell me about the theft first,” Hartman said. “As much as you know about the circumstances surrounding the loss.”
Ward showed Todd a picture of the car in its showcase his father had taken years before. He told Todd about the strange girl, his trip to the plane's lavatory, which left her alone with his briefcase, and opening the briefcase that morning to discover that the car was missing.
“Is this something you want to spend your time on?” Ward asked.
“Of course I want to help, and I think I can. Are you sure you want to invest in the recovery?”
“I am. So I guess we should discuss your fee.”
“My base rate is seven a day plus expenses. I bill a buck a mile, and any additional per sonnel will be billed at forty dollars an hour. I usually ask for a two- day nonrefundable retainer to cover my start-up costs, payable upon signing.”
Ward nodded and thought about the expense for a few seconds.
“For friends, family and Leslie's boss, the rate is three seventyfive a day plus straight expenses, and I'll forgo the retainer. This appears to be a simple recovery job and I doubt it'll take more than a day or two at the most. If I don't have it back by then I'll be surprised.”
“I appreciate your generous offer, but I'll pay you your regular fee,” Ward said. “And I insist on paying the standard retainer. If you were doing me a favor, I'd feel like I was imposing if I made suggestions, or wanted to be critical. Let's forget that you and Leslie are friends.”
“That's fine,” Todd said. “I don't want my personal relationship with Leslie to be awkward on a business level. I want to assure you that I don't discuss clients or my cases with anyone. Leslie knows that.”
The fact was that Ward's father had often told him that if you hired someone to do a job at less than their normal rate, it was just human nature that you usually received a discounted effort. And Ward could certainly afford to pay the investigator his full fee.
“Then here's my standard contract.” When Hartman opened his briefcase to remove a duplicating form and ballpoint pen, Ward saw the handgun in a holster nesting in the briefcase. It was a semiautomatic Colt 1911. Ward's father had had a similar weapon, although that one had been a standard government issue. Ward didn't know much about handguns, but Todd's gun was blue with stag grips and stainless accents. Because Natasha had hated the idea of having a firearm in the house with their child, Ward had given Wardo's gun to his uncle Mark, and she'd agreed to the enhanced alarm system as adequate protection from outside threats to the family.
“Your identity will be privileged information. The contract states that you can't be held legally liable for anything I do while working on your behalf. It also addresses other conditions and concerns to our mutual benefit,” Todd told him.
“Like what might you do that I won't be held liable for?” Ward's mind flashed running gun-fights, broken bones, breaking and entering, high- speed car crashes. This guy looked like someone who could do a lot of damage if he were so inclined.
“I always suggest clients read this, and even have a lawyer go over it before they commit. I also offer a list of satisfied clients so they can check me out, and it's sometimes helpful to talk to other investigators so they can compare rates before making an informed decision.”
“Leslie is a good enough recommendation for me.”
“Hopefully she's biased.” Todd smiled dis-armingly “I can't guarantee a successful outcome, but I will do everything in my power to get the job done expeditiously and I won't waste my time or your money.”
“Then I won't waste your time reading it. We have to trust each other.” Ward signed the contract using Todd's pen. “I'd like to get this moving.”
“Then, if you could do me a favor, I'd like to give this my undivided attention. I'll turn over my caseload to my other investigators. They are as competent as any. I'm going to have Leslie on my back until this is resolved.”
Ward smiled back and nodded. “Thank you,” he said to Todd.
Without looking at Ward's signature, Hartman peeled off a copy for Ward to keep. Ward picked up his checkbook from his desk and wrote Hartman a check for fifteen hundred dollars.
“Tell me everything you can remember about the young woman.”
“I don't really know any more about her than I've told you. I don't know her name, but I think I saw her in a dark- green or maybe black Porsche Cabriolet with a woman driving.”
“That could be a helpful detail.” Hartman placed the check into his briefcase and closed it. “I need your contact numbers. Home, cell.”
“Where do you start?” Ward asked, handing Todd a card with his numbers on it.
“Talking to some people I know and tickling the keys on my computer,” Todd said, putting Ward's card in his pocket. “Often as not this all hinges on contacts and following tracks left on servers as they go through life. You'd be amazed what you can discover about anybody in a few minutes with very little information.” Hartman placed his own business card on the conference table and closed his briefcase, and Ward showed him to the door.
FIFTEEN
Since the legal system had failed to punish drunk driver and murderer Howard Lindley Watcher had decided to handle the matter personally. Killing the man, or making him disappear, presented a problem since Watcher would be the sole suspect with motive and he was not a man who had any desire to live out his life in a cage. So Watcher had to make sure the death looked like an accident. With time on his side, Watcher monitored Lindley and waited until the timing was perfect before making a move. The Army had trained Watcher to be not only a killer but a thinking professional.
On a cool Friday night, after a football game, Watcher trailed Lindley and three of his buddies to a liquor store. After they bought two quarts of vodka the boys went to a cabin on Lake Norman that belonged to Lindley 's father. Watcher knew everything he could find out about the Lindleys, but far more about their son, who was a killer and Watcher's target.
At nine o'clock the boys arrived at the large cabin and immediately started in on the vodka. At ten- thirty five college- age girls arrived and joined the festivities. As the evening progressed, and the vodka bottles lost volume, Watcher studied the kids from the dark wooded lawn outside the house. As Watcher stood there he saw the girl Howard was trying to put the make on rebuff his advances. Howard, being the spoiled brat he was, slapped her, and one of his friends took her side, whereupon Howard and the boy wrestled around in the living room and threw a few drunken punches. Losing the bout, Lindley gave in and his friend released him. After standing, Lindley picked up a baseball bat from the corner of the room and brandished it to intimidate his friends, saying he'd bash their brains in. At that point the girls decided to call it a night, and despite pleas from the other boys, they left in a Honda sedan filled with cigarette smoke and loud music. Watcher smiled grimly as an idea cemented.
Howard and his friends rapidly adjusted to the loss of female companionship and sang along with their too-
