by Dan Arnold
This provided the perfect distraction for us to leave the area unobserved.
We drove straight to Christine’s apartment to get Lori settled in. Christine’s apartment was a two-bedroom unit. Christine’s roommate had moved out a few months earlier and Christine liked having a “guest” room. Lori instantly fell in love with “Mr. Tumescence”, Christine’s cat. I could see that she and “Tummy” were going to become great friends.
Tony called me.
“I shook down those boys in the SUV.”
“Yeah, I saw that. It was quite a scene. Why were you searching their vehicle?”
“They gave me permission. When I approached the vehicle, they were quick to show me their concealed carry permits. Both men were carrying Glock 19s. Get this - they had credentials for something called the ‘World Wide Security Agency’. They had badges with WWSA worked into the logo. Badges, as if they were some sort of official agency! I was tempted to arrest them for imitating a Police Officer or Federal Agent. But they weren’t actually doing that. It’s more like they’re ‘rent-a-cops’. I explained to them we had received a report of a suspicious vehicle, and I asked if we could search their SUV. The bozos said ‘yes’, so we did.
“Did you find anything illegal?”
“No, J.W. Everything was very clean.”
“Thanks, Tony. Maybe they’ll get the message and leave me alone.”
“There’s something else, J.W.”
“What’s that?”
Christine was watching me closely.
“There were no wants or warrants out on either of them. They had no criminal records, and they were both former military.”
“No surprise there.”
“Ok, but neither of them was carrying their ID on their person. They had their wallets stashed in the console. They had to dig them out when I asked for their ID.”
“Sounds sort of familiar, but it’s not illegal, Tony.”
“It sounds dangerous. Especially given that both of these guys sort of match the profile of the guy who tried to kill you a couple of months ago.”
“Thanks, Tony. I hear what you’re saying.”
My research on the World Wide Security Agency turned up some rather interesting information. WWSA was a Private Security Contractor or PSC, often employed by various government agencies to provide security services for traveling diplomats and celebrities, in dangerous hot spots around the world.
I knew these guys. Not these guys in particular, but guys just like them. I had been detailed on missions where I had to work in close proximity with private contractors and Non-Government Organizations or NGOs.
In dangerous parts of the globe, in circumstances where use of the military would not be appropriate, various governments rely on PSCs to protect important assets and NGO employees. These PSCs are routinely manned by former military men, now making much better pay than they had made while working directly for Uncle Sam. I had nearly gone to work for one of those agencies myself. I probably would have, but the company got into some serious hot water when some civilians were killed in a controversial gun battle.
Further digging revealed the WWSA was owned by Strategic International Corporation, probably an umbrella corporation. I would have to do much more in depth research to find out who the real owners were.
What in the world did a PSC want with me? These guys and gals usually provided personal protection details for VIPs. Why would they be tailing me, and was there a connection to Simpson Oil and Gas Company?
At the office, Christine was schooling Lori on the proper etiquette for answering a business telephone.
“Good afternoon, Tucker Investigation, how may I direct your call?”
“That was really well done, girlfriend. You sounded professional and friendly, just perfect.”
Christine gave Lori a little hug.
“Christine, can I see you in my office? Lori, you’ve got the phone. If anyone actually calls, you answer it just like that.”
“Really, Mr. Tucker, can I answer the phone?”
“You bet, you keep working like you have been, we might just put you on the payroll. I think you should start calling me John, OK?”
Lori made a face. I realized my mistake.
“If it’s OK with you, sir, I’ll just call you Mr. Tucker or maybe ‘Boss man’.”
I nodded.
“That’ll work.”
When I had Christine in my office, behind closed doors, I opened a drawer in my desk and brought out a .380 semi-automatic handgun.
Christine raised her eyebrows, then her hands.
“I surrender,” she said.
“Christine, do you have any experience shooting a handgun?”
She snorted.
How very unladylike!
“Are you kidding, I grew up in the Hill Country of Texas, with brothers. We all hunted and fished. I’ve fired pretty much all of the typically available handguns. Even toys like that one,” she said, derisively.
“Guns aren’t toys, Christine. I’m concerned for your safety.”
She crossed her arms and looked at me, like I had just insulted her.
Today, Christine was wearing a grey skirt with a royal blue sleeveless blouse. Her hair was pulled back into a fancy, swirly thing behind her head. Her lipstick was red/orange, to match her hair. She had on silver jewelry.
She managed to look tough and beautiful, all at the same time.
“John, did you really think you were the only person around here that can shoot? I have a concealed carry permit. Right now, out there in my purse, I have a Lady Smith revolver in .357 magnum. That’s my concealed carry piece. I prefer revolvers because they are highly reliable and always ready to fire. That little semi-auto gem has to be cocked, and it’s subject to jamming. It’s like a whittled down 9 mm.”
I looked at her and put my hands up.
“I stand corrected.”
“My daddy always told me, ‘A lady should have a little something more about her than meets the eye.”
“Well, you surely do, Christine.”
She smiled.
“Count on it.”
After Christine returned to the reception area, I called Tom Montgomery.
“Mr. Montgomery, I have concluded our investigation of Tim Shaw. We were unable to find anything to indicate that he is dangerous, or that he poses any sort of threat to you or your sister.”
“Are you sure, I mean maybe there is something you could find out if you spent more time on surveillance.”
“Yes, sir, I’m quite sure. There would be no point to any further surveillance.”
“Yeah, well my information suggests you haven’t followed him around enough, yet.”
I thought about his statement.
… His ‘information?’ Now, who could have informed him of my surveillance endeavors?
“Mr. Montgomery, I’ve searched his background and current social and business activities. I’ve personally interviewed people who know him, and I’ve detailed one of my associates to do surveillance on him for several hours every day, for a week. I have video tape of him everywhere he’s been after work, for the entire period of time. He’s pretty much spent all his free time with your sister. I’m telling you there’s nothing there. Your informant is wrong. If you’ll tell me who your informant is, I’ll interview him or her, and perhaps be able to gather more useful data.”
“… Uhhh, no, that won’t be necessary. I guess we’re done then.”
“Yes sir, we are done. I’ll send you my bill.”
“Ok fine… how much…”
“And please say ‘hello’ to Walter for me.” I interrupted.
“Yeah, Ok, I mean… who’s Walter?”
I hung up the phone.
This was starting to be fun.
Twenty-Four
I saw Molly briefly that morning. She had just gotten back from re-hab.
“Hi, Johnny,” she called.
“Hi yourself, Molly, you look terrific. What’s goi
ng on?”
She was supervising men moving her things out of her apartment.
“I’m going home to Denver, Johnny. I can’t stay here and get a fresh start. My folks want me to come home and live with them for a while.”
I nodded. “Good for you, Molly. That sounds like a really good idea. Do they know what you’re struggling with?”
“Yes, I told them everything. I want to thank you for all your help and support.”
“Forget about it. I hope everything works out for you. Drop me a note or send me an e-mail sometime, just to let me know how you’re doing.”
She walked up to me and we hugged for a moment, very tight. Today there was no smell of alcohol seeping from her pores.
“I’m scared, Johnny,” she whispered.
“Shoot! I’m not. You’ve got this. Go on and get it done.”
She kissed me on the cheek, and then she gave me a brave smile.
“You always did see the best in me.”
“Now it’s time for you to see it too. God don’t make no junk, girl!”
“I know that’s right,” she grinned, and went back to her apartment.
Lori was sitting at Christine’s desk, as Christine and I were in my office discussing what we had learned about Walter.
Lori buzzed me on the intercom.
“Hey, ya’ll, there’s somebody coming up the hall.”
Lori was becoming a fixture at the office. She spent more and more time answering the phone, allowing Christine to make outgoing calls on her cell phone, and help me with research. Lori thought it was pretty cool, to be able to see people coming up the hall for their appointments, by watching the video monitor on the computer screen.
I didn’t have any appointments scheduled for this time.
I clicked on the video feed to my computer screen.
The lady approaching the front door was very well dressed and appeared to be in her thirties. Christine went into the reception area to meet her.
I switched cameras, so my monitor showed the view from just behind Lori’s head.
The lady was about Christine’s height, maybe five feet, three inches, but more like 5’6”, in her high heels. She had medium length, blonde hair and appeared to me to be quite pretty, elegant and poised, as she greeted Christine and Lori.
Presently, there was a knock on my door, and Christine brought the lady into my office.
“John, this is Melody Doyle, of Doyle, Doyle and Starnes. Ms. Doyle, this is Mr. Tucker.”
“Please call me John,” I said, as I shook her hand.
I was amused to see Christine take a seat in one of the upholstered chairs in front of my desk, at the same time Ms. Doyle did.
I knew Doyle, Doyle and Starnes, was one of the law firms in this building, located just down the hall, on this floor.
“Is this a neighborly visit, or do we have business to discuss?”
“A little bit of both, I reckon.” She said, with a grin. “I’ve been curious about ya’ll, since I saw you moving in. When they put the plaque up ‘Tucker Investigation,’ I got even more curious.”
“Well then, Ms. Doyle, welcome to Tucker Investigation. How may we be of service?”
Christine was watching all this with amusement.
“Melody, John, please call me Melody. I’ll get right to the point. Doyle, Doyle and Starnes, our law firm, specializes in both criminal defense, and personal injury. The other Doyle is my dad, Clarence Doyle the Third. Jeff Starnes is the remaining partner. We have need of an investigator to provide information related to our client’s cases.”
I appreciated how direct she was. I like people who get right to the point.
“I see. I’m surprised you don’t have an investigator already.”
“We did, until yesterday. It seems our investigator may have a serious drug problem. We put up with it for as long as we could. He managed to get himself arrested again yesterday, so we fired him. Now he’s one of our clients!”
“Melody, you wouldn’t hire another investigator without checking out references, would you?”
She smiled, real big. My, what pearly white teeth she had!
“No, John, we wouldn’t. Of course we followed the story of the rescue of those girls back in the spring, never imagining you would be moving into this building. That was a very nice piece of work, by the way. When we heard our investigator had been arrested again, I made a few phone calls. You check out fine.”
I thought I saw Christine narrow her eyes at Ms. Doyle’s last comment.
“We would be delighted to be of service from time to time, Melody, but because of our client list, I’m not in a position to go to work for your firm, exclusively.”
“Oh, we’re not asking you to work exclusively for us. We can probably keep ya’ll pretty busy though. How many investigators do you have?”
“Christine and I are the only full-time employees. We have other people who do work for us on a part time, contract basis, and we have arrangements with some other agencies.”
Melody looked back and forth between Christine and me.
“Oh, I see. Well, that sounds just fine. Perhaps you could come down to our office to meet with the other partners and discuss the details.”
“Yes, I’ll be happy to do so. Christine will work out an appointment time,” I said, standing up.
After Melody was gone, Christine came back into my office and sat down.
“Thank you, John.”
“Thank you, for what?”
“Whenever you talk about Tucker Investigation, you always say ‘we,’ including me in the equation. It means a lot to me. I’m afraid you gave Melody the wrong impression though.”
“… How’s that?”
She rolled her eyes.
“John, you are as dense as a brick! She thinks we are a couple. She was flirting with you, and you made her think we’re a couple.”
“Yeah, she was coming on a little too strong and fast for me. Besides, you are the only woman in my life.” I winked.
“You do know you and I are not ever going to be romantically linked, right?”
Yeah, I knew that. I had always known we weren’t destined to be a couple. It’s very difficult for Shepherds to have wives. We tend to out-live them. Shepherds have the same desires as other people walking around in earth-suits, but my mission cannot be jeopardized by my personal desires. Our one and only date had been delightful, but there was never going to be a second date. We were good together, just not romantically good. We flirted occasionally, but we both knew it was never really going anywhere.
“Right, I get it. I mean we only ever had one real date, right?”
She smiled, a bit wistfully.
“John, we couldn’t work together if I thought you were trying to get me into bed.”
“Good grief, Christine you didn’t think I was trying to do that, did you?”
She squinted and made a face.
“No, John, of course not, you haven’t done anything of the kind. That would be Walter’s way of doing business.”
As I was heading home, I saw Dustin pushing his shopping cart down the sidewalk, so I decided to stop and see how he was doing. The temperature was hovering at about a hundred and one degrees, and Dustin was wearing a hooded sweatshirt.
“Hello, good Angel,” he grinned.
“Hi, Dustin,” I grinned back. “Man, it’s too hot out here. You need to find a cool spot somewhere. Can I take you to a place with some air conditioning?”
“The day is hot, but I is cool. The one who’s your shadow, be a fool.”
“Oh boy, here we go.” I thought.
“Well, it’s kind of shady right here, but it doesn’t help much with the heat.”
“You got a long dark shadow following you, Angel.”
Was he referring to the black SUV? Could he have seen it following me?
“This time of day we all have long shadows.”
“This kinda shadow hate the light, he try to hurt you, with all hi
s might.”
What the…? I thought.
“You got to keep on keepin’ on, Angel.”
“We all do Dustin, even you, right?”
“Nah suh, I’m wrong in the head, and it’s not my fight.”
“Are you sure I can’t get you a motel room or take you somewhere cooler?
He smiled kind of a sad smile, and started pushing his cart.
“I got me my rounds, and, ain’t nobody cooler’n me.”
“Well, OK Dustin, drink lots of water.”
He started pushing his cart away, indicating our conversation was over. He looked back over his shoulder and said, “You watch your back, good Angel. Shadows don’t come at you straight on.”
Twenty-Five
The very next day, Walter Farley came by to see us.
I was sitting at my desk, when Lori buzzed me. Christine had gone to the restroom.
“Mr. Tucker, there’s someone here to see you.”
Lori was kind of laughing, as she said it.
I clicked over to the video feed from behind her head.
There stood Walter, all grins, as he chatted with Lori.
“Send him in, Lori.”
A moment later, Walter Farley sauntered into my office.
“Whooee boy, you’ve come up in the world!”
“Hello, Walter. What can I do for you?”
“Not what you can do for me, but what I can do for you.”
“Have a seat, Walter.”
“No thanks, I’ll stand. Where’s Christine? You didn’t have to fire her too, did you? She’s a tease, but she won’t put out. Now, the little cutie you have out front is a nice touch, but she seems a little young for you.”
I couldn’t sit there with Walter standing in front of me, looking down on me.
“OK, Walter, you can sit down, or get out.”
“Whoa there, pardner, this is a friendly visit. I don’t mind sitting.”
While Walter was sitting down, I glanced at the monitor. Christine was back, casually talking to Lori at the desk.
“You know, Walter, the last time you were sitting in my office, you left a bug under the chair. I hope you don’t try the same, lame trick, again.”
“Golly, Mr. Tucker, for a busy and popular guy, you sure are grouchy. What’s the matter, not getting any?”