Nothing to Lose
Page 30
He was getting sloppy. He had decided to get out of his car and walk near her office to try to get a better vantage point, to see if her boyfriend, Isaac, was going to meet her here today. But Keith hadn’t counted on her noticing him standing there. More importantly, she had noticed and recognized him from the other occasions that he thought he had been discreetly tailing her and Isaac. It had been a mistake, a rookie mistake that wasn’t worthy of the four years he had spent as a private investigator.
“You messin’ up, boy,” he said to himself as he opened his car door, climbed inside, and plopped on the leather seat. He shut the door behind him and inserted his key into the ignition.
But he had to admit he was out of practice. This was his first real case in months.
He had been eager to accept this one, to sink his teeth into something meaty. He had been tired of the busy work that had filled his days for the past few months. Stokowski and Hendricks Private Investigators had been going through a bit of a dry spell lately. With the exception of this con artist case, they had been doing nothing but process serving for months, delivering summonses and subpoenas. When Keith left the ATF to start the PI business with retired cop and family friend Mike Stokowski four years ago, process serving wasn’t exactly the exciting work he had had in mind. He had hoped things would pick up soon. Now they finally were, but this case had been complicated.
He had finally located Reggie Butler also known as Tony Walker now known as Isaac Beardan. The con artist and Casanova had left a trail of heartbreak and several empty bank accounts along the Eastern Seaboard. Each time Isaac moved on to his next con, he changed his name, his look slightly, and his story. It made him a hard guy to find.
One of the most recent victims from which Isaac had stolen thirty thousand dollars worth of jewelry had hired Stokowski and Hendricks PI to track him down. Keith had traced the smooth-talking bastard here, to the small town of Chesterton. Keith still wasn’t sure though if Isaac worked alone on his cons. He didn’t know what role his girlfriend, Stephanie Gibbons, played in it—if any. Hell, maybe Isaac had selected her as his next victim.
“Don’t worry about her,” a voice in Keith’s head urged as he pulled onto the roadway. “You finished your part of the case. You found him. You’ve got photos . . . documentation. The police can track him down now and press charges. That’s all that matters.”
But was that all that mattered? Should he warn the new girlfriend about Isaac?
An image of her suddenly came to mind: her pretty cinnamon-hued face; the limber legs like a seasoned dancer that were on full display underneath her flowing, pleated skirt; and her full red glossy lips. He remembered the stubborn glare she had given him too, trying her best to intimidate him, but failing miserably.
“If you tell her the truth, she’ll tell Isaac,” a voice in his head warned. “It’ll put him on the run again. The authorities will never be able to track him down.”
Keith frowned as he started the drive back to his hotel. It was true. Isaac would know he had been found and only move on to the next place and start a new con. No, Keith couldn’t tell her the truth about Isaac. He had worked too hard on the case to throw it all away now.
“Maybe she’ll figure out he’s full of shit by herself,” Keith murmured as he gazed out the car’s windshield.
But he knew that wasn’t likely. Isaac was well practiced at this game. He was a champion player. Keith doubted Stephanie Gibbons would be any different than any of the other saps Isaac had swindled.
DAFINA BOOKS are published by
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Copyright © 2013 by Angela Winters
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ISBN: 978-0-7582-8656-7
eISBN-13: 978-0-7582-8658-1
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