The app for the local news was still open on my laptop, so I refreshed the page. The Chester County Sheriff had identified the dead person they found in the bay. Richard Kostas, fifty-three years old, resident of Halverston, vice president at Benton Dynamics, Inc. The news site did not disclose the cause of death, which was still under investigation at the Office of the Chief Medical Examiner in Baltimore. The article did not tell me anything more than what I already knew from speaking with the sheriff on the muddy banks of the Chesapeake last night. Well, except that Kostas lived inland and was a vice president.
Marisa and Hailey spoke to each other at the end of the corridor, so I focused on their voices and eavesdropped on them.
Hailey said, “Sign both. One for us. You’ll keep the other after he signs.”
“Got it,” Marisa replied. “Mr. Seagraves and I chatted briefly about his former career.”
Silence was Hailey’s only reply.
Marisa continued, “He used to work at NSA, right? That must’ve been intriguing. What’s he doing practicing law all the way out here on the Eastern Shore?”
Hailey said, “Not sure about that. He never talks about his past. If he did work at NSA and left, then it was probably because there’re some things even he won’t do … but not many.”
I snorted quietly, so they would not hear me. Someday, I would have to give Hailey a raise.
My paralegal entered my office and had me sign the two identical retainer agreements. I put one in the file folder and handed the copy for Marisa back to Hailey. She gently waved the retainer agreement like it was a minor victory and left the room.
Shaking my head, I stepped onto my back porch overlooking Pevensey Cove. In the distance, sailboats glided swiftly across the bay. The wind filled their white triangular sails that resembled the fins of huge ghostly sharks patrolling the waters. My coffee was no longer hot, but the taste was pure and strong. I finished it off and considered filling my mug again, but a second cup would never have been as good.
I took my phone out of my pocket, scrolled through the contact list, and pressed the name of an old friend I had not called in a long time. After a few rings, the groggy voice of Glenn Bernthal answered, “Hello.”
I said, “Hey, Glenn. It’s Bryce. How’re ya?”
“Oh, wow, dude, it’s been like forever. What’re you up to?”
“Well, just hanging around the Maryland Eastern Shore, doing my lawyer thing, and some boating when the weather permits. How ‘bout you?”
Glenn said, “Work and more work. Same old, same old. You still playing racquetball?”
“Not as much as I used to, but I could smack the ball around, followed by a few frosty beers, of course. You up for it?”
“Yeah, man, definitely.”
“How about Saturday afternoon?” I asked. “Maybe four o’clock?”
Glenn checked his calendar and agreed to meet me at my house in Bridgeford before heading to the gym.
I said, “The traffic from Fort Meade will be light, but heavy over the Bay Bridge, so leave early. I’ll reserve a court.”
“Cool.”
“And, hey, there’s a favor I want to ask.”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Glenn asked sarcastically.
“Come on, man, nobody digs up intel better than you. A little investigation job for this new case I just got. But I want it legit. No hacking.”
“Dude, what’s the fun in that?”
“There’s this big defense contractor in Chester County called Benton Dynamics. I need to know what they do. Especially any new research projects.”
“You want the public profile?” Glenn asked, sounding like he already knew the answer.
“No, I can get that myself. I need more. Their R&D is classified. Find out what you can.”
“And you want this by …?”
“Saturday, if possible.” I switched the phone to my other ear. “I have a hearing next Wednesday. Hey, don’t use the computers in your department. Investigate from somewhere that won’t leave an easy digital trail.”
“An easy digital trail? You hurt me, man.”
“Benton Dynamics had a security breach. They’ve got to be on alert, so no black ops.”
“Okay,” he said. “How about a little gray ops instead?”
“Up to you, but you know where the line is. Don’t cross it. Other sources, legitimate sources, but no hacking into Benton Dynamics. Anything that gets traced back to us would have consequences you and I can’t begin to imagine.”
“All right. I’ll see what I can do. Saturday then.”
“Thanks, Glenn. Bye.”
As I broke off the connection, Hailey stepped onto the back porch with me and held up a check for five thousand dollars. “A nice little retainer.”
“Yeah, not bad,” I replied. “Marisa Dupree’s diamond tennis bracelet told me that she could afford it. Designer suit, too. Go ahead and deposit it into the escrow account.”
Hailey gave me an “are you sure” look, but there was no option there. Client funds went into the escrow account until the fees were earned and invoiced, which I would do next Wednesday after I wrapped up Marisa’s hearing. Catching up on those two missed mortgage payments and a few other bills would give me a little breathing room and let me sleep through the night again. “Yeah, the escrow account … for now.”
Hailey nodded. “So do you think she did it?”
“I’ve always been impressed with your ability to eavesdrop down that long hallway.”
“I have two toddlers at home. I hear everything.”
“Well,” I said as we both stared across the wide expanse of the bay. “Let’s consider what we have so far. Benton Dynamics filed a lawsuit against Richard Kostas, now deceased, and our new client, the enigmatic Marisa Dupree. The company claims they stole confidential files off its computer network. She denies it all, but won’t tell me what kind of work she did. Just vague comments about top secret research and development.”
“Everybody around here knows that Benton Dynamics develops high-tech weapon systems, mostly for the Navy.”
“Yeah,” I said, “but she could’ve worked on something else altogether.”
Three seagulls arced across the sky,
