The Agency

by Edward Kendrick

  As soon as Kip returned to his office, Nina winked at John, saying, “Don’t worry about it. You’re hired. He didn’t give any of the other applicants the grand tour and…you’re the last interviewee.”

  “I hope you’re right. It would be good to work with someone I think I’ll respect for his know-how and his interest in doing right by his clients.” Okay, a leap in logic at this point, but I have the feeling the client is all important, not the money.

  “And he’s easy to get along with.”

  “Are you and he…?”

  “He’s the boss and we’re friends. That’s it.” It looked as if she was going to say something more and decided against it. Give what he’d asked her, John had a feeling he knew what it was. Whether he was right or not, it was none of his business.

  * * * *

  As soon as he was back in his office, Kip got online. He had two things he needed to do. One was for a client who wanted background checks on a couple of potential employees. He took care of that first, typed up his report when he finished, and emailed it to the client.

  With that completed, he began his search for any killings which were comparable to Constantine’s and Alexander’s—as well as anything about missing persons that fit the parameters.

  He started with a major search engine, inputting his inquiry about bodies found in the mountains. That brought up more than he’d expected. He narrowed the search to possible murder victims which eliminated missing hikers and supposed suicides. Way too many of those, which is sad.

  Constantine’s and Alexander’s were listed. Then there was body of a woman who had worked for an escort service, and had been shot execution-style. It was found buried not far off the highway between Denver and Blackhawk. Kip added her to the list. A young man who was last seen leaving a bar in Denver with two men who one witness described as ‘older and violent looking’ also made the list, as did a man who was on the way to a bank with the previous night’s proceeds from the club where he worked. He never arrived, his car was missing, and his wife told the police he had packed a bag for what he told her was a business trip. That had happened six years ago. A body identified as his had been discovered the following spring in a mine shaft near Long’s Peak. He had been shot in the back. Not in the head, but the basic details were close enough to fit the parameters, Kip figured.

  He found a few more possibilities, although the information on the news sites was slim. He went to the site he used when he was doing background checks and needed to do a criminal records search, and then into the NCIC database. That eliminated all but three, including the young man from the bar who had turned up six months later working for a club in New York as a bouncer. Those that were left, although spread far apart, fit what Kip was searching for.

  So I have five persons who disappeared and then ended up in graves in the mountains between Denver and Grand Junction. There’s no proof the two men I saw killed all of them, but I don’t believe in coincidences.

  He created a well secured hidden file on his computer for all the information he’d gathered. With that done he leaned back, considering John Rigby and whether he wanted to hire him. He’s got the qualifications. The problem is, he doesn’t seem to be able to settle down and stay with one agency. I get the whole boredom thing. If I didn’t have to do background checks I’d be a happy camper, but they are my bread and butter when things are slow. He chuckled. Not that they have been recently. I think today’s the first one in forever when I haven’t been trying to do three things at the same time. God only knows I could use him.

  He took out John’s résumé and called his past employers. To a man they said he was a hard worker and very knowledgeable when it came to security and working on missing persons cases. Kip was well aware it was against the law for them to state anything negative about past employees, but there were ways around that in how things were worded. None of John’s ex bosses did that. In fact, they all said they had been sorry to see him leave.

  Picking up the phone, Kip called John. After identifying himself, he said, “Can you start tomorrow?”

  “I can. What time?” John replied.

  Kip told him, John thanked him, and they hung up. Kip went out to tell Nina, getting a grin and a thumbs-up from her, followed by, “I’ll have him fill out the paperwork as soon as he gets here.”

  “Afraid he might change his mind?”

  “Nope. Afraid you might. I know you. You hate delegating.”

  “Hated. Past tense. I’m ready to have some time for myself.”

  She clapped her hand to her chest. “You mean you might finally get a life?”

  “You never know,” he replied. “It could happen.”

  Chapter 3

  John laughed when Nina said “Quick, before he changes his mind,” as she handed him a sheaf of papers to fill out.

  “Is he likely to?” he asked.

  “Not really, but I’m not taking any chances. It took forever to convince him to even consider hiring another investigator.”

  “It did not,” Kip protested from the doorway. “Good morning, John. Why don’t you fill those out in your office? Then we can go over what’s on the schedule for today.”

  For John, that turned out to be serving summons for two of Kip’s legal clients. The first recipient sighed while admitting she was the person he was looking for. The second one, a man, was not happy when he opened his door and John asked if he was Mr. Thorne while holding out the summons. The man said he wasn’t, so John asked to see his ID. Instead, the man slammed the door closed. John knew the man was Thorne as Kip had given him a copy of his driver’s license for identification purposes. The problem was, he had to give the summons to him in person, not leave it in the mailbox, so he went back to his bike to wait it out, figuring Thorne would either try to leave or hole up until he thought John was gone.

  Half an hour later, he saw Thorne cross his backyard to the garage. Before he could get into his car, John was there. “I’m not giving up until you take this,” he said. “Might as well make it easy on yourself and do it now.” Thorn glared at him, getting into the car. John smiled, tossing the summons on the dashboard. “Consider yourself served, Mr. Thorne.”

  “I’m not…”

  “Yeah, you are.” John showed him the copy of the driver’s license.

  Thorne’s hands fisted, until he took a real look at John. It must have been the tats, John figured. He’d loosened his tie, opened his shirt collar, and rolled up his sleeves while waiting for Thorne to show his face. Whether it was that, or just resignation, Thorne did nothing more than swear vehemently as he finally looked at the summons.

  Without another word, because saying “Have a good day” would only have been rubbing salt in Thorne’s wounds, John left.

  When he got back to the agency, Nina told him Kip had left to set up security for a client. “One of our regulars emailed a list of people he wants background checks on,” she told him, smiling sweetly. “I sent the email to your computer.”

  John groaned, telling her he’d get on it right after lunch—which he did. He was almost through when Kip came back.

  “I have a meeting with a potential new client in twenty minutes,” Kip said. “I’d like you to sit in.”

  “Sure. Hopefully I’ll have these finished by then.”

  Kip looked at what he was doing and grinned as he left John’s office. “Don’t let me stop you.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it,” John muttered under his breath. He did finish, and emailed the results to the client, moments before Kip let him know it was time to meet him in his office.

  * * * *

  “When did you last see him, Mrs. Barnes?” Kip asked after he, John, and the woman were seated around his desk and she had explained her problem.

  “Two days ago. He seemed fine. I mean, he wasn’t sulking or angry or anything.” She sighed. “That’s been happening a lot recently. His father puts it down to teen angst and hormones.”

  “Does Michael get along w
ith you and your husband?” John asked.

  “Of course. We’re good parents. Maybe not as permissive as he’d like but a child needs to have limits.”

  Since the ‘child’ had turned eighteen a month ago, Kip wondered what sort of limits she was talking about. He’d find out once he got the basic information from her. “Does he have friends and have you checked with them?” he asked. “And have you reported him missing to the police.”

  She huffed. “The police said he was of age so they wouldn’t do anything until he’d been gone for at least forty-eight hours. Good lord, he could be dead somewhere by then, or off who knows where with that girl. He used to have such nice friends until he met Carla. She corrupted him. Oh, you wanted to know if I’ve talked to them. Yes. I called all of them. They claim they haven’t seen him.”

  Kip nodded. “Even Carla?”

  “I don’t have her number. He refused to give it to me. Said it was none of my business and he didn’t want me bothering her.”

  “Do you know where she lives?” John asked.

  “Somewhere in Capitol Hill, with her mother. Probably in one of those slummy apartment buildings off of Colfax. The woman’s divorced and…” She shook her head in disgust.

  Like being divorced is a crime. Kip was tempted to say as much and resisted because she was potentially a new client. “Did they meet in high school?”

  “Good heavens, no. He’s a student at Colorado Academy. She’s at East. They met at a soccer game. He’s on the team,” she added proudly. “They had a game with East and she must have seen him and vowed to get her hooks into him. He’s quite handsome. See?” She handed Kip a photo of her son.

  He wasn’t anything special as far as Kip was concerned. He figured it was all in the eye of the beholder—his mother. “I’ll need this for my files, if you decide to hire us,” Kip told her.

  “Of course. You’ll need this, too.” She gave him a typed list of names with addresses and phone numbers. “There are all his friends. You have to find him before he does something stupid.” Her shoulders slumped. “He’s a good boy. Why he hasn’t at least called…? He could have done that much. Unless something horrible has happened. What if he’s in the hospital or…or something?”

  “That will be one of the first things we check.” Kip scanned the list. “I don’t see Carla’s name on here. I know you said you don’t have an address or phone number for her, but what’s her last name?”

  Her mouth tightened. “Morgan.”

  “Thank you.” Kip noted it on the list. Getting a folder from a desk drawer, he took out several papers, spreading them out on the desk in front of her. “These are for your personal information, for you, your husband, and Michael. This is a list of our fees. The last is our contract.” He tapped each on as he spoke.

  “Then you’ll take my case and find Michael?”

  “We’ll definitely do our best,” Kip replied. “As I told you, we’ll check the hospitals, and with the police in case he’s been arrested.”

  “Arrested? That would never happen and if it did, he’d have called us.”

  “Sometimes kids are too embarrassed to do that, especially if it’s for something like a DUI or public drunkenness. Once we’ve established he’s not injured or in jail, we’ll talk with his friends and locate Carla Morgan.”

  She nodded as she looked at the contract and the fees. “This is acceptable,” she told him. She filled out her part and signed it, giving it to Kip to do the same. After writing a check for the retainer, she said “I’ll need some time with this,” picking up the personal information sheets.

  “Of course. If you’ll come with me.” Kip escorted her into the conference room, asking if she’d like coffee or tea. She said she wanted coffee, so he poured her a cup, setting it on the table. “I’ll be in my office when you’ve finished.”

  She barely looked at him before taking a pen from her purse and setting to work.

  “I’m glad she’s not my mother,” John commented when Kip returned and closed the door. “The sun rises and sets on poor Michael, which I’m sure she let him know daily.”

  “No kidding. If I were a betting man I’d say he decided to move in with the girlfriend to get away from her. Interesting that Mr. Barnes didn’t come with her.”

  “My guess is she’s the boss. She probably told him to go to work while she handled talking to us, and hiring us if we met her high standards.”

  Kip laughed. “She did look at you a bit askance when I introduced you. At least you’re wearing a shirt and tie.”

  “God help me,” John replied. Then he filled Kip in on what had happened when he’d served the summons. “I purposely let Thorne see my tats. It saved me, and him, some grief. I think he was planning on punching me out until he saw them.”

  There was a light rap on the door at that point. Kip went to open it and let Mrs. Barnes in. She handed him the information sheets. “I hope to hear from you soon.”

  “We’ll keep you apprised of what we find out,” Kip replied. The look on her face stated in no uncertain terms that he’d better, and that he’d also better find Michael before the day was out.

  All she said was, “Thank you,” before leaving.

  Kip asked John to call the hospitals while he checked with the police to find out if Michael Barnes had been arrested. He did it the easy way, by accessing police arrest reports, which obviously didn’t surprise John in the least. Michael didn’t turn up on the records anywhere, although as John pointed out, if he’d been attacked and taken in, the hospital wouldn’t have his name listed—”To keep his attackers from finishing the job.”

  Next, he tried the phone number Mrs. Barnes had given for Michael. It went directly to voicemail. He decided leaving a message would be an exercise in futility. “He’s not going to return my call, if he’s left home on purpose.”

  “I wouldn’t if I were him,” John agreed. “If he didn’t, then his phone could be anywhere from on him to the nearest dumpster. You could try tracing it.”

  “I will, but not until we have more information. As I said, he could be staying with Carla and her mother, to get away from mommy dearest.”

  Kip called East High School, asking to speak with one of the admissions people. It took some fast talking, and a small lie about his being Carla Morgan’s uncle and new in town. “I went to the address I have for my sister, but apparently she’s moved.” When the woman questioned why he hadn’t known that, he expanded the lie, telling her he was just back from serving overseas and they’d been out of contact. “Works every time,” he whispered to John while the woman looked up Carla’s address. After thanking her, he asked her not to tell Carla he was in town. “I want to surprise them. Or maybe…Do you know what class she’s in right now?”

  He could hear the smile in the woman’s voice as she said, “Let me check. It’s almost the end of the school day, but if you hurry…” She came back moments later, sounding nonplussed. “Apparently she decided to ditch school today. I’m sorry.”

  “Ah, well. Hopefully she’ll be home when I get there.”

  “Clever,” John said when Kip hung up.

  “Maybe a bit worrisome, too. Michael Barnes is missing and Carla’s not at school? Let’s hope they haven’t done something stupid.”

  “Like ran off to get married? That would frost Mrs. Barnes’ ass.” John grinned.

  “No kidding. So first thing we do is stop by the Morgan apartment to have a talk with Mrs. Morgan. Hopefully Carla and Michael are there, too.”

  “It’s only two-thirty,” John pointed out. “If she works, she won’t be home.”

  “Good point. Okay, we’ll split the list of Michael’s friends and talk with them. Before you say it, kids have cell phones, even at school, so hopefully they’ll answer out of curiosity if nothing else.” He gave John one of the cell phones that belonged to the agency, meaning the agency’s name would appear on Caller ID.

  The list wasn’t long, only eleven kids. They were able to talk to t
en of them, none of whom knew where Michael was—”That they’ll admit to, anyway,” John said after his third call. To a man, or girl in four cases, they said Michael wasn’t having any problems they knew about that would make him want to run away.

  Nina let Kip know he’d had two calls from regular clients, so he called them back before he and John left to visit Mrs. Morgan.

  “You might as well ride with me,” Kip said as they were leaving. “It’ll save on gas.”

  “Using that theory, you should ride with me,” John retorted. “Bikes are notoriously easy on fuel.”

  Kip considered it, briefly. “Thanks, but no. I don’t think right now is the time for me to learn how to be a passenger on one.”

  “You’ve never…?” John looked at him in shock.

  “Nope. But in my defense, I’ve never known anyone who owned one.”

  “Just wait. I’ll get you on mine and then you’ll trade your car in, in a heartbeat.”

  Kip snorted. “It would be hard to lug around all the equipment I need when I’m setting up security for someone.”

  John pointed to his saddlebags. “My guess is, it would all fit in those.”

  “Maybe. Right now, though, let’s take my car.”

  They did.

  The address they had turned out to be a modern apartment complex, not a ‘slummy’ building as Mrs. Barnes had implied. There was a bank of buzzers in the entryway. Kip pushed the one for Mrs. Morgan. It took a minute, and then a female asked who was there.

  “My name is Kip Faulkner. I’m a private investigator. I’d like to speak with Mrs. Morgan, or Carla Morgan.”

  “I’m Mrs. Morgan. What’s this about?”

  “Michael Barnes.”

  She sighed. “I’ll be right down. I hope you have identification.”

  “I do,” Kip assured her.

  A couple of minutes later, Kip saw the elevator doors across the lobby open. A woman, about forty he estimated, exited and came to the door. He’d already taken out his ID, which he held up so she could see it. She nodded, opening the door to let them in, introducing herself as Beth Morgan.