by Mike Faricy
“It sounds like you’re grasping at straws.”
“I’d say right now that’s a fairly accurate assessment.”
The door opened and Marilynn stepped in. “Mr. Baker, they’re waiting for you in the conference room.”
‘Shit,” he said under his breath. “Thank you, Marilynn, I’ll be there momentarily. Dev, don’t give me an answer right now, just promise me you’ll think about it. Let me know in, oh, say, the next twenty-four hours. Fair enough?”
“That works for me. I’ll get back to you tomorrow.”
“Excellent. Marilynn will escort you back to the lobby.”
“If you’ll follow me, Mr. Haskell,” Marilynn said then walked out of the office. I had to hurry to catch up.
Chapter Ten
“So that’s what he wants you to do, meet with his client?” Louie asked. We were sitting on our usual stools at The Spot and it was Louie’s turn to buy.
“Yeah, I guess. I don’t know, the way he sort of explained things, my first thought is it would be some sort of nerd screwing things up on this woman’s computer. He said he’d drawn up a list of disgruntled former employees. It’s probably some brainy dipshit either hanging out at the library or home on his computer all night long listening to Star Wars music playing in the background.”
“Good thing you’re not stereotyping. Was this Royal guy purposely vague?” He signaled Mike the bartender for another round.
“I don’t know, it just seems to me, at least at first glance, whoever is doing this is smart. I’m just wondering if they’re smart enough not to be involved.”
“You’re not making any sense, maybe I should just cancel that next beer for you?”
“Don’t. What I mean is Royal is sort of thinking its some local disgruntled computer hack. God, it’s probably just some high school kid acting stupid and getting his kicks. ”
Mike slid my beer and Louie’s bourbon across the bar then took a ten from our pile of cash.
“So, are you going to take the job?” Louie asked.
“Sounds like I would be getting paid just to follow people around and see if anyone is into anything crazy.”
“Sounds like a waste of time,” Louie said and sipped.
“Probably, but now I’d be getting paid for wasting it.”
“There you go, always looking at the bright side.”
“That’s me. God, I don’t even know what to look for. I’m still thinking this is way out of my league.”
“Maybe wait until you talk to his client, the one being harassed. In the mean time, what about that professor that always helped you with computer stuff, well, until you downloaded all that porn on her laptop?”
“Sunnie Einer. And I didn’t do that intentionally, it just sort of, I don’t know, it just sort of happened. Which is the perfect example of me not being a tech guy.”
“Gee, really, who knew?”
“I don’t know, this could get awfully complicated and I haven’t even been involved yet.”
“Sounds to me like you’re already signed on.”
Chapter Eleven
I phoned Royal during lunch the following day, I was at my desk eating a Stromboli while I scanned the building across the street with my binoculars. I was having better luck with the Stromboli.
“Mr. Baker’s office.”
“Hi, this is Dev Haskell. Is this Marilynn?”
“Yes, Mr. Haskell, how may I help you?”
“I’d like to speak to Royal, please.”
“Mr. Baker is in a meeting just now, may I have him call you.”
“Yes, I think that will work, I’ve got a number of meetings this afternoon, but I’ll leave word to be interrupted when he calls,” I said, then decided that sounded like a pretty good line and took a large bite of the Stromboli.
“Very well, your number, please,” Marilynn said.
I attempted to push the Stromboli to one side of my mouth and almost choked trying to give her my number.
“I’m sorry, I’m having difficulty understanding what you said. Would you mind repeating that please?”
I took a big swallow and repeated my number.
“There, much better. Thank you, I’ll have Mr. Baker get in touch with you. Will there be anything else?”
“No, that should do it. I’ll alert my staff that he’s going to be calling.”
“Yes, I’m sure you will,” she said sounding like she didn’t believe a word then hung up.
Royal called back late in the afternoon. I was debating about going home or drifting over to The Spot.
“Haskell Investigations.”
“Mr. Haskell, please.”
“Royal?”
“Oh, Dev. I didn’t realize this was your private line.”
“Nothing’s too good for you, Royal, thanks for calling back. I’d like to take on this harassment situation we discussed yesterday.”
“Wonderful, let me phone Ashley right now and let her know you’re going to be involved.”
“Ashley,” I said writing her name down. “And what’s her last name?”
“Ashley should do.”
“What’s her number?”
“I’ll have her contact you. We’re all a bit security conscious right now. Glad you’re on the case, Dev.”
“I look forward to talking with her,” I said, but he’d already hung up. Not the most promising of beginnings.
Ashley phoned me later that evening. I was still in The Spot watching the Twins get their asses handed to them when she called.
“Haskell Investigations,” I answered then watched as we hit into a bases loaded double play to close out the third inning. We were already down four to zip.
“Devlin Haskell, please.” A sultry voice that sounded more than a little like Marilyn Monroe melted my cellphone.
“Speaking, how can I help you?”
“This is Ashley.”
“Oh, yeah, Ashley. Hey, thanks for calling back. I spoke with Mr. Baker and he briefly described your situation. I was hoping we might be able to get together and discuss some things.”
“Mmm-hmmm, I’d like that.”
Based on her voice I was thinking I might, too. “Is there a time that would work for you tomorrow?”
“I might be able to meet later in the afternoon. I’ve got an appointment in an hour and it’s liable to go pretty late.”
I was thinking an appointment? At this hour? It must be some international conference call or something. “I think I can adjust my schedule, move some people around. Does four tomorrow afternoon work? I could come to your office, if that would be convenient.”
“I’d prefer to meet in some public place.”
“Okay,” I said, thinking “strange,” but maybe she’d already checked me out and wasn’t so sure. “Just tell me where and I’ll meet you there.”
“I have to pick up some things tomorrow, how about the Mall of America, there’s a Starbucks on the second floor, just around the corner from Victoria’s Secret. Do you know it?”
“Yes,” I lied. I avoided the Mall of America like the plague. My blood pressure rose just driving past the damn place. Store after store and not one with anything I wanted or needed. I’d lost count of the number of women who had dragged me out there for “just a moment,” only to be abandoned for hours while they wandered aimlessly without the slightest idea of what they were looking for, delighted just to be shopping.
“Wonderful, please don’t be late, I’m on a tight schedule,” she said and hung up.
I wondered how tight her schedule could be if she was out at The Mall in the first place? Fortunately she’d hung up before I could ask.
Chapter Twelve
I was sitting in the second floor Starbucks out at The Mall the following afternoon, ten minutes ahead of schedule, not that it mattered, Ashley didn’t show for another forty-five minutes. When she did arrive she had three bright pink shopping bags from Victoria’s Secret, a black bag with gold lettering from Sheba’s, anoth
er lingerie store, two other bags I couldn’t identify, a bag from Nordstrom’s holding two shoe boxes and a purse slung over her shoulder large enough to carry a rocket launcher.
I had been staring at her from across the room as she ordered a latte with skim milk and artificial sweetener. At the time I didn’t know it was Ashley, I just sat there treading water and letting the slutty ambience she seemed to exude wash over me. I don’t know if it was the long blonde hair, the incredibly tight leopard skin stretch pants, the see-through top, her black stiletto heels with the little spurs, the breast enhancement, or the cloud of perfume wafting from three tables over. I’d already chalked her up as probably being too much work.
Once she got her latte, she looked around at everyone staring at her then walked toward my table. “You must be Dev,” she cooed in that Marilyn Monroe voice as she set her mug on the table. She proceeded to unload the half dozen bags she carried and scatter them around my stool. Then she held out a hand with long, red fingernails and a rose with thorns tattooed around her wrist. As I took her hand, she automatically stroked my palm with her middle finger, raised an eyebrow suggestively and batted her long, fake eye lashes.
I started to pant and suddenly felt my blood pressure rise which had nothing to do with being in the Mall of America.
“Nice to meet you, Ashley. I wasn’t sure that was you at the counter.”
“It’s all me,” she shrugged and wrinkled her nose.
Everyone in the place was trying very hard not to look like they were staring at her.
“Yeah, well, Mr. Baker gave me just the briefest information. You apparently have a problem with someone posting things on the internet, your profile or something?”
“Yeah, someone’s been following me, taking pictures then posting them on my business profile. There was a photo of me working out, another one at my yoga class, jogging, then a couple of shots coming out of,” she seemed to think for a moment, “business meetings.”
“All taken locally?”
She nodded while sipping. “Yeah, from all over town. After the first couple of images were posted I started to watch, but I could never spot the guy taking my picture.”
“Maybe they’re using some sort of long-range lens,” I said thinking out loud.
“That’s the same thing Royal said, but the work out and yoga shots were in fairly close quarters, in fact the yoga room doesn’t even have windows.”
“And why are they doing this, do you know?”
“I think they’re just fucking with me,” she said then shrugged and sipped her latte. The two women at the table next to us stared at one another with shocked expressions.
“But, whoever it is seems to be able to post whatever and whenever they want on my profile page. It’s supposed to be secure, but obviously it’s not. Roy has already shut down my site twice and I’ve had to fill in all the information again for a new site. Let me tell you, not fun.”
“Roy? You mean, Mr. Baker, Royal?”
“Yeah, sometimes I call him Roy,” she wrinkled her nose and shrugged again. “He kinda likes that, he takes good care of me, tells me I’m special. Well anyway, we’ve changed my password more times than I can remember, but that didn’t do anything. He even bought me a new computer, but that didn’t seem to help, either.”
This was sounding more and more like it was out of my technical skill range. I was quickly becoming convinced I was probably the wrong guy for the job. “What kind of business are you in?”
She looked more than a little surprised. “Are you kidding? Why, I’m an escort of course. You pay and I’ll play,” she said then wrinkled her nose at me. “What did you think? Why the hell else would I be dealing with Roy?”
The two women next to us quickly slid off their stools, left their coffees on the table and marched out the door.
Chapter Thirteen
You’re an escort?” I said and immediately decided I would do my utmost to help Ashley in any possible way.
“Yeah, what’d you think I do, teach kids or work in an office or something?”
“No, no, actually it makes sense, sort of. I mean I didn’t know Royal, Roy, was involved.”
She nodded and took another sip. I noticed the lipstick on her coffee mug matched the color of her nails.
“He does your website?”
“Sort of. No one actually has a website like you’re thinking. Roy’s got a number of sites, all over the world broken down by country. Like in the case of the US, the site lists the state and then the city. So for someone like me, well, I can go to Florida and Arizona in the winter or even London or Paris, if I want. Roy’s service posts a visiting notice for me and I get to work as much or as little as I feel like. It’s pretty cool.”
“And this works, I mean you get business, customers, clients?”
“Yeah, course it’s all specialized, I mean they’re vetted, you know, on his contact sites. Besides, we can list a complaint and if the customer turns out to be some kind of jerk they’ll get black balled and then they can’t use our services.”
“Contact sites?”
“Yeah, before you can respond to my posting and set up an appointment, one of Roy’s sites checks you out, makes sure your credit is good, you’re not some lunatic or serial killer or God help me, a cop. They assign you an id number so you, as the customer, remain anonymous and all the transactions go through the site, no cash is exchanged, well, except for the tip,” she said and raised her eyebrows. “Keeps us legal and safe.”
I was curious. “What’s your going rate?”
“Three-fifty an hour, goes up from there, depending,” she said then looked at her watch. “Look, we should finish up, Tony’s gonna be here any minute. Here’s the deal, I’m down about fifteen percent over the last two months. This shit is hitting me right wear it hurts, in my pocketbook. I told Roy, ‘get it fixed baby or I gotta cut you loose.’ You know?”
I nodded like I did know, although nothing could be further from the truth. “Let me do some brainstorming, Ashley. I’m thinking just an old fashioned second pair of eyes might do the trick.”
“Huh?” she said with a very blank look on her face.
“I plan to follow you around, see if we can’t get whoever is taking all those pictures.”
“Oh yeah, got it. Of course I don’t want you getting in the way. My clients are pretty high class and very private. It could be bad for business if they saw you lurking behind a palm tree in the hotel lobby or something. You know?”
A guy suddenly walked up behind Ashley, “Hey, baby, everything all right here?” he said giving me the cold stare as he spoke.
“Hi, Tony, yeah, don’t worry he’s okay. This is that investigator guy Roy called about. He’s gonna find out who’s been jacking me around.”
“That so,” Tony said looking at me sideways, nodding with a half smile on his face like he wasn’t about to believe it.
“Hi, I’m Dev Haskell,” I said and extended my hand. I didn’t like the guy already and he’d only been here for a couple of seconds.
He half snorted then said, “Haskell, I heard of you, you’re the movie star.”
“You’re in movies?” Ashley half shouted.
Heads turned. “No, no it wasn’t anything, believe me and it was a long time ago.”
“It was what you might call one of them cameo appearance deals, a reality video before reality shows. And now you’re supposed to find out who’s been doing this shit? Yeah, right,” Tony said.
“I’m gonna try. It appears no one else has been able to do much. That’s most likely why Mr. Baker contacted me. You wouldn’t happen to have any ideas, would you, Tony?”
“I’m working on a couple of things. Yeah, I’ve got some ideas.”
“Well, if you come up with anything, please be sure to share it with me. Look, Ashley I’ll be in touch, I want to get back to Royal and go over a couple of things. Is it all right if I give you a call tomorrow?”
“Let me call you, I’ve got yo
ur number. Grab my bags there will you, Tony?” she said and indicated the shopping bags scattered across the floor.
“All that shit, what’d you…?”
“Just pick them up, Tony and let’s go. God, you don’t have to make a federal case out of it. I’m the one who had to go shopping for the last three hours, I’m beat and my feet are killing me and I could use something just a little stronger than this latte right now.”
“Okay, okay.”
“Come on,” she said then slung that gigantic purse over her shoulder and marched off without saying goodbye. A number of heads turned as she strutted past, all the while continuing to read pain-in-the-ass Tony the riot act over her shoulder. I couldn’t hear what she was saying, but I recognized the body language, and what a body.
There was something, make that a number of things, I didn’t like about Tony that had nothing to do with his movie star comment.
Chapter Fourteen
I left a message for Royal the following morning. Marilynn had let me know in no uncertain terms that she was the keeper of the gate and I wasn’t getting past. While waiting, I checked out Ashley’s online presence. I visited five different sites, all listing escorts available in major cites around the world.
Ashley’s profile name was exactly that, “Ashley,” which led me to believe that wasn’t her real name. She was willing to travel for a “to be determined” price and available in the twin cities for in-call at $350 per hour or out-call starting at $450. She was more expensive than any plumber I could think of, but then again. She would accept men, women, couples, two men or two women with commensurate price increases.
You had to submit your credit card and list references to Royal’s various sites and then, upon approval, you would be able to contact her using a numerical ID and schedule an “appointment.” Ashley was one of maybe twenty women listed in the Twin Cities area.
Royal’s sites provided a secure vetting process as well as a variety of credit card and PayPal billing options. I guess the business had moved a long way from just the simple “Buy me a drink?” line.