Impulse Spy (Sonic Sleuths Series)

by Carrie Ann Knox

  “And man, he went high-dollar this time. He’s not playing around.”

  I’m sure the bar she was in was nice, but I knew she was not referring to the furnishings. Instead of using our usual short-distance streaming, we were on a normal phone call so I could talk back if I needed. But I could do it without holding the phone to my ear.

  “This one is quite striking,” she continued. “Long legs, strong bone structure. I’d say retired Eastern European model. Hasn’t found the right sugar daddy yet, I suppose.”

  I tried to hide my smile at her running commentary. As we expected, there appeared to be another escort lined up to bait our target.

  “And as usual, he barely registers that she’s right beside him. He’s more interested in his cheeseburger. I really like this guy.”

  I waited while she continued keeping an eye on things.

  “Oh boy, here comes the flirting. She stole one of his french fries, if you can believe it. Not a bad move. Now he’s engaged, anyway.”

  I stayed ready. We would need to move before anything went too far. It would be much harder to intervene if they left the bar. Although from all we had seen so far, we didn’t expect this woman to succeed any more than the others.

  “Now a little contact, some flirty touching on the arm. Barf. I better take some quick pictures in case our benefactor checks in and sees this. Hang on.”

  As I waited for the commentary to return, a voice spoke to me from above.

  “Mind if I have a seat?”

  I looked up to see a generically-handsome man with salt-and-pepper hair hovering next to me. The well-dressed man fit right in with the moneyed crowd in the lobby. He motioned to the sofa seat next to me.

  “Um, no. Go ahead.”

  He took a seat, casually lounging an arm toward me across the back of the sofa. I gave him a polite smile and pretended to focus on my phone’s screen.

  The man leaned toward me a little. “You just looked so lonely over here. I had to come say hello.”

  Oh, crap. Maybe I miscalculated by not being clearly on the phone. I wanted to hide it in case Richard happened to see both of us. But it has left me wide open for stragglers.

  “Oh, I’m just waiting for someone.”

  The man kept at it. “Well, is it a boyfriend? Because I can keep you company while you wait.”

  This darn outfit she put me in. “Yes, actually. I’m waiting on my boyfriend.”

  I heard Sloan’s voice return in my ears. “Your boyfriend? What?”

  She wouldn’t be able to hear anything but my voice. Now Sloan was confused and the man didn’t seem deterred by the answer. He grinned and leaned closer.

  "Okay. But I'm here and he's not. No harm in getting to know each other in the meantime, right?"

  I grimaced internally but gave the man a weak smile. “It’s time for me to meet him. I better go.”

  As I stood to leave, I heard the man grunt his approval. I kept walking, thoroughly disgusted.

  Sloan rang in my ears. “Quinn? What’s going on?”

  I didn’t speak up until I was out of view. “Sorry. I think that on me, the outfit definitely gives the impression we were going for. Had to deal with a creep."

  “I bet you did, you hot little thing in that dress. But you need to get in here. I think it’s time.”

  I strode across the lobby into the bar, trying my best not to wobble like an amateur. On impulse this afternoon, I had purchased a pair of tall black boots with towering heels. They had reminded me of those Sloan was wearing the day we met. In the past I would have never dreamed I could pull them off. I felt like a new person wearing them, as if in disguise. And that seemed fitting for what felt like a whole new life.

  I spotted the pair toward the end of the long bar, away from the thin crowd. The suspected high-class escort looked over in annoyance when I climbed onto the stool next to her.

  “Hi! How ya’ll doin’.” I tried out my twangiest southern accent. “Don’t cha’ just love this place?” I tried in vain to pull the short dress down over my legs.

  The woman gave me a tight smile thinly disguising a grimace. His quick nod and smile were more polite. He went back to his french fries.

  “So swanky,” I announced, pretending to look around the bar in wonder. “Are ya’ll here for the conference?”

  I heard the woman audibly sigh. She then turned toward me with a face frozen with forced friendliness. She eyed me up and down and seemed about to respond when Walter spoke up.

  “I am,” he leaned past the woman to respond, his voice friendly. “What about you?”

  “Oh, no, not me” I responded, putting my hand to my chest in modesty. “Well, sort of, I guess. I’m here with my boyfriend, Paul. He knows all about this stuff. I’m just along for the ride.” I shrugged and smiled guilelessly at them.

  The woman’s fake smile got even bigger as she narrowed her fake eyelashes, glaring at me beyond the view of her prey.

  It was time to make a play. “Oh, shoot. I’m so rude. Just jabberin’ away over here. My name’s Savannah.”

  I thrust my hand toward Walter, swiping the side of the woman’s martini glass in the process. The drink splattered across the woman’s dress as it tipped over with a clank. She squealed in shock.

  “Oh my goodness.” I grabbed for her cocktail napkin. “I’m such a clutz. I’m so so sorry.” I attempted a pat at her stomach with the napkin.

  The woman jumped from her barstool, knocking my hand away. She gaped at me, her face distorted in disgust, then turned and stomped out of the bar.

  I had to move quickly. I righted her glass and shifted onto the vacated stool. Walter looked to me in surprise.

  I dropped the accent. “Listen, we only have a few minutes.”

  Walter’s eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

  I lowered my voice. “That woman was paid to seduce you. You’re being set up.”

  His face froze as he absorbed my words. I sensed his body tense.

  I smiled cheerfully and leaned into him. “But someone could be watching. So you need to pretend like nothing’s wrong. Smile at me.”

  His face looked panicked momentarily. He stared at the bar top, pondering. Then he took a deep breath and looked back at me questioningly, with a wary smile.

  I tilted my head, my voice gentle. “Has anything seemed a little odd lately?” I looked at him earnestly. “Have you noticed an unusual number of women approaching you, being forward with you?”

  He stared back at me momentarily and then looked away. I could see the recognition churning in his mind as his eyes darted aimlessly.

  I placed my hand gently on his forearm and gave him a confident grin. “I’m here to help you get out of it.” I kept my voice quiet. “I know you have no reason to, but you’re going to have to trust me.”

  He raked his hand slowly across the lower part of his face, letting out a long breath. When he reached for his drink, his hand was shaking slightly. I let him sip quietly in thought for a moment.

  He looked up at me and nodded imperceptibly. I stood and leaned in close, placing my hand on his back. “She’s going to be back any minute,” I whispered into his ear. “I need you to come with me. I’ll explain everything.”

  Twenty-One

  I swiped the keycard and entered my hotel room. Walter looked both ways down the corridor before hesitantly following me in.

  “Make yourself comfortable,” I said, tossing my key onto the table. I headed straight to the door to the adjoining room, flipped the lock and opened the door.

  “Okay,” I called out.

  I heard a lock click on the other side, and the complementary door quickly opened. Sloan strode into the room in jeans and a tank top, looking serious.

  Walter backed toward the front door, anxious. “What is this?”

  “You should probably sit down,” Sloan said matter-of-factly.

  I gave Walter a reassuring look. “This is Sloan. She’s a private investigator hired by your brother. Richard.”r />
  “Dicky?” he said. “Why would he hire an investigator?”

  “That’s what we want to talk to you about.” Taking a seat at the head of one of the double beds, I motioned for him to do the same on the opposite. He complied.

  “As you might have guessed,” I began calmly, “my name’s not really Savannah. I’m Quinn. I’ve sort of been helping with the investigation.”

  He loosened his tie nervously. “What investigation?”

  I motioned toward Sloan, still standing near the doorway with her arms crossed. “Your brother hired Sloan to get pictures of you in a compromising position. He wanted proof that you are having an affair.” I looked him in the eye. “Before we go any further, tell us the truth. Are you involved in an affair?”

  “No,” Walter replied, aghast. “Absolutely not. He knows that.”

  “That’s what we thought. We believe you.”

  He shook his head, bewildered. “He hired you to take pictures of me? Why would he think I was cheating?”

  I glanced at Sloan. She was holding back, waiting for my lead. I nodded for her to jump in.

  “We don’t think he actually believed anything he told me,” she said, moving closer.

  Walter turned to her, quizzical.

  “We think your brother was trying to set you up. We believe he wanted photographs of you in a compromising position, real or faked, so that he could use them for something. We were hoping you could shed some light on what that something is.”

  He looked at me in confusion. “So that woman—those women—they were a setup?” He looked dazed. “By my own brother?”

  I nodded my head solemnly and gave him a sympathetic smile.

  “Why would your brother want photos like that? Do you think he would want to blackmail you?”

  “No.” Walter shook his head. “There has to be another explanation.”

  I probed again. “Can you think of anything he could do with suggestive pictures of you?”

  Walter looked toward the floor, lost in thought.

  I continued. “What about this special deal being worked out with Quandom? We know he’s pushing for the deal, but you’re against it. And he lied to us about that. Could that have anything to do with it?”

  Walter suddenly drew a sharp breath. He looked between Sloan and I, his eyes wild with realization. He jumped to his feet and crossed the room. I was afraid he was going to walk out. Instead we watched in silence as he paced the floor, running his hands through his thinning hair.

  Finally he stopped and looked up at Sloan. “So let me get this straight: my brother paid you to get pictures of me with a woman.”’

  “He did.”

  “And you suspect he also paid women to get me in these photos.”

  “We know for sure that someone did,” I said. “What would pictures like this do for your brother?”

  Walter looked at us soberly. “I know exactly what he could do with those photos.”

  He moved back to the bed and sank heavily. “The question is why.”

  Sloan moved near. “His claim was that he was trying to protect the business. He told me it was a family company that could have its reputation ruined if you were unfaithful.”

  Walter nodded. “That’s exactly right, that’s what we thought.” He looked up at us. “Which is why we set up a rule in the by-laws that kicked anyone on the board of directors out of power if they did anything that could embarrass the company. ‘Conduct unbecoming of a member,’ it’s called.”

  I began to understand. “So if he had evidence implicating you in a scandal, you would lose your power in your own company.”

  He nodded. “The board would have no choice but to vote me out.”

  “But why now?” Sloan asked. “Why would he want to get rid of you?”

  Walter stared at his knotted hands. “With me gone, Richard would have the majority he needs to push the deal with Quandom Corporation through. I made it clear I’m not giving in on it.”

  I stood up to think. “So he sets you up, and gets the business deal he wants. It must be pretty important for him to sell out his own brother.” I looked back at Walter. “We think we know about the technology and how lucrative having a time advantage would be. So then what is your objection?”

  “I was all for it in the beginning.” Walter bent and rubbed his temples, his face pained. “My problem is with the terms Quandom is asking for. In exchange for exclusive use of their technology for a set time—enough to potentially make a fortune—they want a large share in our firm. A stake equal to mine or my brother’s. Everyone’s share would be reduced in order to offer it.”

  Sloan jumped in. “So then would that give them extra power in the company?”

  “No more than anyone else, with that alone. But I don’t like the vulnerability inherent in a deal like that. It makes us ripe for a takeover.”

  “A takeover,” I mused aloud. “Even in a privately-held company? How would something like that work?”

  “With my brother and I as co-owners, holding the biggest shares by a large margin, there’s little threat from outsiders,” he explained patiently. “But this introduction of a new slice of the pie changes all that.”

  He stood and began moving again, looking restless. “Once they have that large of a stake, if they were able to convince a couple other major shareholders to sell their stakes, they would be able to take control of the company.”

  “And you don’t want to take the risk, so he had to find a way around you in order to get a deal,” Sloan said.

  Walter looked dismayed. “So it seems.”

  “Well, if it makes you feel any better, it looks like there may be a reason your brother would go to such lengths to make the deal go through. Besides pure greed.”

  Walter stopped and looked at Sloan, curious.

  “We think he’s in trouble, and not just from the credit card companies. He owes a lot of money, most likely from gambling. Did you know Richard is deep in debt?”

  He shook his head. “I knew Richard liked to play now and then, but no, I had no idea there was a real problem.”

  He looked grave as he was lost in thought again. Suddenly his face darkened. “Oh. No, I think I understand now." He shook his head as though in disbelief. "I never even considered the threat of takeover would come from my own brother. They wouldn’t even need another shareholder.”

  I was confused. “What do you mean?”

  “I know what’s happening. If this deal goes through, sure, it could mean a lot of money. A whole lot. But we would have to proceed slowly in order to avoid immediate attention. Small trades at a time. It would take time. Certainly wouldn’t fix gambling debts overnight.” He started pacing again, speaking more quickly. “But if he pushed the deal through, giving a large share of our firm to Quandom—and then he secretly sold his own shares over to them as well—he could net enough from the sale to pay off any debts, and still retire semi-comfortably. Or heck, he might even have an agreement to keep his job. While the rest of us would lose all control of our firm. It would no longer be the family business, and we could all be fired.”

  He stopped moving and looked at us in bewilderment. “He must’ve been planning this with Carolyn Evans from the beginning. Finding an escape route by selling us all out.”

  We were all silent for a moment, considering his theory.

  Finally Sloan spoke again. “So with everything he already had to do for this deal, I’m guessing he would’ve gone to great lengths to protect it. What do you know about Carolyn’s husband? Would he have played a role in this?”

  “Actually, this deal was first conceived when he was still in charge of his company. Richard tried to make a deal, and Carter refused. The current version of the deal that includes the ownership stake was only offered after Carter was sent to rehab. Carolyn took over in his absence and made the new proposal.”

  Sloan and I exchanged a look, clearly thinking along the same path.

  Walter tried to read our sile
nt conversation. "Why, you think Carter was in on this?"

  "Just the opposite." I looked him in the eye. "It looks like he may have tried to get in the way."

  My meaning sunk in and Walter gaped at us. “Please tell me you aren’t thinking that Richard had something to do with Carter’s death. It was an accident.”

  Sloan moved closer. “Well, now that we know all this, doesn’t it seem convenient that the soon-to-be-ex-husband—who wanted to jeopardize the deal—shows back up, and almost immediately ends up dead?"

  Walter didn’t look convinced. “A sad coincidence. He was an addict.”

  "As far as we can tell, he was trying to slip back into his old life. Make up with his wife. It’s safe to assume he wanted control of the company back as well, which would’ve spoiled everything at the last minute.”

  “No way,” Walter insisted. “My brother might’ve made a desperate move to make money, but I refuse to believe he could’ve hurt anyone. Much less killed them.”

  “We don’t think he did anything directly,” I interjected. “But there is something you should see.”

  Sloan moved to the desk and pulled three photographs from a drawer. She flipped the switch to illuminate the desk lamp and laid the first photo out for Walter to see. He hesitated distrustfully before leaning in to examine. It was the same photo she had originally used to drag me further into all of this.

  “This is your brother having a discussion in a dark alley. Money was exchanged.” She pointed to Salvatore in the photo. “This guy owns the Italian restaurant your brother likes to visit. You know the one? I believe you’ve had to drag him home on occasion.”

  Walter regarded her quizzically, probably wondering how Sloan knew such a detail. She offered no explanation.

  “He’s not just there for the wine,” I added. “The upstairs is an illegal gambling operation. Runs nightly as far as we can tell. Richard is quite the regular.”

  Walter’s eyes widened. “I had no idea.”

  I continued, pointing to Salvatore. “This creepy man also reportedly came by the office and roughed Richard up a little recently. Pretty sure your brother’s in deep to this guy, and based on the frequency of his visits to the restaurant, getting deeper every day.”