by Andrian, V.
“Well…” He stands from his desk and paces behind it, looking at Damon’s picture in his hand. “The old man had issues and he seemed to blame Damon for every single one of them. He could have as well blamed him for the greenhouse effect. Damon thought his father was bitter but I’m pretty sure the man hated him. He hated his own son.” He shakes his head in sadness. “In the few hours we spent together he let it all go. When Damon was in the plane, when he was flying, he didn’t care a bit about anything else. I know for a fact he took on other extreme sports but flying a plane was by far his best. It set him free.”
“Did he have a jet of his own?” I ask as I’m struck with an idea.
Mr. Smith frowns. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. He never told me of having one. But then again he had enough money to buy ten of those. Or his father did.”
“Can you remember anything else about the day he disappeared?” I ask hopefully.
He furrows his brow. “No. At least not right now. I could call you if anything comes to mind.”
I nod and push two other pictures towards him. “How about these two? Do they bring any memories that could possibly help me?”
He looks down at the two women. One is Damon’s girlfriend from seven years ago. She is currently engaged to a rich prick who is definitely cheating on her but I doubt she’s just idly standing by. I think they may possibly have a mutual agreement to screw every adult of the opposite sex while pretending they don’t know about each other doing it.
He focuses on the second picture that shows a mysterious woman. I have no idea if she has any real connection with Damon. Through her name I have found out that she had once been employed by Mr. Chandler Sawyers in his company as an assistant’s assistant, long before either of his children were born, but no connection to Damon Sawyers whatsoever.
“She reminds me of someone. Who is she?”
I tap my pen on my chin. “I could tell you but I’d rather do it after you place her face. I don’t want your answer to be affected by mine.”
He nods and furrows his brow even further. “Who is she? Her face…” He snaps his fingers and looks at me in question. “Is she Damon’s mother? I think he looks a little like her.”
I blink rapidly at him. “His mother? No, that’s not Mrs. Sawyers. She used to work for Mr. Chandler Sawyers. Her name is Fiona Jameson.”
He frowns again and finally shakes his head. “I’m sorry but no. I don’t know her.”
I take back the pictures and nod. “Okay. Thank you anyway.” I stand and give him my hand. “I appreciate your help. I think I may have enough to look for him now.”
“Let me know if you find him and give him my regards.”
“I will. And I would appreciate it if you gave me a call in case you remember anything else.”
“Hey, Jeremy. Any phone calls?”
“Just one boss. The usual.”
I sigh. Cole Sawyers has been calling every day to see if I have any news on his brother’s case. I could call him and tell him what Mr. Smith has told me today but I want to look a little further into it. And first and foremost…
“Jeremy. Did you check all of Damon Sawyers’ money transactions from before he disappeared like I asked you to?”
“Yes, boss.”
“Stop calling me boss. Is there something that could indicate that he bought a plane?”
“Uh. No.”
“What, just like that?”
“No… boss?”
“Stop calling me boss, jackass. Look again. I know this is the reason he disappeared. I’ll bet you anything that he bought an aircraft and left the country without anyone knowing.”
“But someone would have found the trail already,” Jeremy argues. “It’s not like the previous investigators didn’t have access to his financial transactions.”
“Check again,” I insist. “Thoroughly. It’s our only hope right now. Also, I need you to find me more information about Fiona Jameson. Anything you can and everything that links her to the Sawyers family. Mr. Smith said that she looks a little like Damon and I will have to agree with him. It may be possible that Damon wasn’t Mrs. Sawyers’ son.”
Jeremy’s perfectly plucked eyebrows rise up to meet his hairline. “It would explain why Chandler Sawyers treated him so bad. If Damon was an illegitimate child left on his doorstep, he could have blamed him for causing a rift in his marriage. Have you discovered anything about Mrs. Sawyers filing for a divorce?”
“Nothing of the sort. As far as I know, Mr. and Mrs. Chandler Sawyers had a perfect marriage. Plus, Mrs. Sawyers as we’ve been told adored Damon.” I huff. “It actually doesn’t make any sense but I can’t help the feeling that this has everything to do with Damon’s disappearance.”
“Boss…”
“Don’t call me boss, Jeremy or I swear you’re fired.”
“Fine. Cass. Cassie. Cassandra. You do realize you’re referring to our case with his first name, right?”
I sigh. He’s right. “I know. But he’s not a cheating husband or a possible criminal. He’s someone we’re trying to find.”
“But he’s a case, honey. You don’t want to get emotionally attached to someone that we don’t even know is alive.”
“I’m not getting emotionally attached, Jeremy. Jesus, I don’t even know the guy.”
“Sweetheart, you have a huge heart. I always thought that it was too huge to be doing a job like this and if I were into women I’d be definitely on my knees for you. But from what I know about you, you don’t need to know someone to get emotionally attached. Everyone you’ve spoken to has been telling you for three weeks that the man was a brilliant, handsome specimen, bordering on prince charming. You’ve been getting obsessed on finding him to the point you haven’t taken any other cases.”
“I had other cases,” I argue in absolute irritation.
“And when they were done, you didn’t take any others.”
“This is a big case, Jeremy. Have you seen how much Cole Sawyers is paying us to find Damon?” I inwardly wince for calling him by his first name again.
“I know it is. And I will stop now and say nothing but this. Be careful of that big heart of yours. What if we find him and he’s a completely different person and you’re disappointed? Or what if… what if we find out he’s dead, Cass?”
An actual physical pain slices through my heart and I know in that moment he’s right. I’m already emotionally involved into finding a man I have never met in my life. Maybe it’s because it’s my first case in two years that I don’t have to take pictures of people screwing or dealing drugs. Or maybe I’ve been affected by everyone’s opinion about Damon Sawyers like Jeremy says.
But I don’t care. I need to finish this case. I need to find Damon and, yeah, I need to find him alive and well. And I know in my gut that this is the way. Through his finances and Fiona Jameson.
“Check the finances again. And I’ll try to find Fiona Jameson.”
“You’re obsessed,” Layla accuses before filling her mouth with chocolate soufflé and vanilla ice cream. It has become a nightly ritual.
“I’m not obsessed,” I say coolly and trying for nonchalance. “I’m dedicated.”
“Dedicatedly obsessed,” Dean corrects in all seriousness. “It’s been – what? – three weeks and you haven’t stopped talking about this guy. And talking about him as a man and not as a case.”
“Okay, why does everyone keep saying that? He is a man and not just a case. He’s my first case that’s worth something. I’m sick of photographing people screwing their brains out with someone other than their husbands or wives. This is a real case.”
“Okay, honey, don’t get your hackles up,” Layla says trying to calm me. “We were just making an observation. We’ve never seen you so…” I narrow my eyes as she searches for the right word, “…passionate about your job.”
I sigh. “Well, that’s because I wasn’t. I haven’t been. You guys, I have a really good feeling about this. I know I will fin
d him. I just know it.”
Layla smiles around her spoon and swallows. “Well, I have no doubt about that. You know I believe you’re the best PI there is.”
I smile at her and relax a bit. At least until Dean leans forward and pins me with a stern look. “Just be careful, Cass. Until you find out more, you don’t actually know what you’re dealing with. People don’t just disappear like that. This could be far darker than you can even imagine. Tread carefully.”
I sigh in defeat and nod. “Fine. I promise I will.” My phone starts ringing and I grab the chance to cut this conversation short. I hurry to the kitchen and hit answer. “Talk to me, Jer.”
“You. Are. Brilliant!”
My mood immediately lightens and I smile. “What? What did you find?”
“Exactly what you thought I would. It took me all fucking day and a good portion of the night but I found the missing trail. Damon Sawyers did buy a private aircraft about two weeks before falling off the face of the earth. And the reason no one found out about it was because the purchase was made in the name of Chandler Sawyers and placed under the company’s expenses. There are records of a small, twin-engine private aircraft being purchased but then it’s like that aircraft doesn’t exist.”
“Jeremy, you are amazing! Did you find the—”
“Purchase details, aircraft number and even what size was the salesman’s—”
“Jeremy!”
“—shoe! I was going to say shoe!”
“Right. Well, it doesn’t change anything. You’re a genius.”
“I know, darling. I’ve sent you all the info on your e-mail along with Fiona Jameson’s home address and phone number.”
“You… you found her? Jeremy! You are—”
“Amazing, I know. I’m also extremely tired but thankfully I’m off tomorrow and for the next three days.”
Fuck. I had completely forgotten about that. “Yeah, I remember. You’re going to your mom’s then?”
“You bet your ass. She’s baked me cookies and muffins and I’ll be coming back ten pounds heavier.”
“Well, enjoy your small vacation then and I’ll see you Monday.”
“Thanks, Cassie-boss. Bye-bye, love!”
I hang up with a stupid grin on my face. I have a lead! An actual lead that has just brought me a huge step closer to finding Damon. Without thinking much of it, I dial Cole Sawyers’ number. He answers on the fourth ring.
“Hello?”
“Mr. Sawyers, it’s Cassandra Hale. I’m sorry to call at such a late hour but—”
“Don’t apologize, please. I was the one to tell you to do so. Please tell me you have a break in my brother’s case.”
“I have,” I say with a grin. “I have a lead that could take us straight to your brother, Mr. Sawyers.”
“Has she found him?” I hear a woman’s voice from a little further away.
“Hold on, honey,” Mr. Sawyers says to the woman and then speaks to me. “Miss Hale, I have you on speaker so my wife, Victoria can hear you too.”
“Hello, Miss Hale,” the woman says more clearly now.
“Hello, Mrs. Sawyers. As I was saying to your husband, I have a solid lead. I found out that Damon had acquired a pilot’s license and had purchased an aircraft. Once I follow the trail of the aircraft’s number, I’m certain I will have a general direction of where we can look for him.”
A chorus of relieved exhales sounds from the other line and a strangled laugh. “I knew you would find him,” Mr. Sawyers says in a choked voice. “I was certain of it.”
His certainty shakes me up a bit and I somber up considerably. “I haven’t found him yet, Mr. Sawyers. We still have a ways to go and we don’t know what we’ll find further ahead. I just wanted you to know where I stand. And I also had a very personal question to ask you.”
“Ask anything you want, Miss Hale,” he assures me immediately.
“Please, call me Cassandra or Cassie. Mr. Sawyers, I need you to think really hard before answering. Is there any possibility that Damon… wasn’t your brother? Or that he was a half-brother?”
Silence greets me for several heartbeats and I start to wonder if I spoke too fast. Finally it’s Mrs. Sawyers that answers. “In all honesty, Cassandra, we can’t be sure.”
Mr. Sawyers clears his throat. “There was this one time when Damon was drunk and I found him by the pool. He started saying things about how he wasn’t my real brother and he would have given anything to change that. He was devastated over a fight he had had with our father and I thought at the time he was rambling but… Now that you mention it… I can’t be sure because I have nothing else to base it on. But it is not a possibility I haven’t thought about. Mainly because of the way our father treated him.”
“Then I will have to inform you that I’m looking into that aspect as well. I know it could be hard if it comes out that I’m right but—”
“It doesn’t change anything for me,” he cuts me off. “He is my brother in all ways that count and that’s enough.”
An involuntary smile tugs at my lips. “It says a lot about you, Mr. Sawyers that you would speak that way. I assure you I will keep doing everything I can to find your brother.”
“And about that aircraft,” he goes on. “If it comes to the point you need to go somewhere, travel anywhere, I will make all the arrangements. It doesn’t matter where. I will pay for any expenses.”
“I will keep that in mind, Mr. Sawyers. For now I’m only going to bid you goodnight and try to get a little more work under. I will let you know if I find out anything else.”
“Thank you, Cassandra,” Mrs. Sawyers says in a low voice. “Please, find him.”
Chapter Three
“Hello?”
“Mrs. Jameson?”
“Speaking.”
“My name is Cassandra Hale. I’m a Private Investigator. I was wondering if we could arrange a meeting? I’d like to ask you a few questions.”
“What is this about?” her tone suggests suspicion.
“I’m afraid there’s not much I can tell you over the phone, only that it concerns a person who has been missing for the last seven years.”
“And what is that person’s name?”
“Please, Mrs. Jameson. Can we not meet somewhere? I promise not to take up a lot of your time. It’s only a few questions—”
“The name,” she insists.
“I don’t like passing information about cases via phone, Mrs. Jameson. If you could just—”
“I want a name or I’m hanging up right now.”
“Damon Sawyers,” I say sharply. My patience has ended. “I’m looking for Damon Sawyers.”
A long beat of silence and then, “I don’t know him.”
I can tell she’s lying by the sudden straining in her voice. “Maybe you didn’t know him by name but if I showed you a picture—”
“There’s no point. I don’t know him and I don’t have time for this. Find someone else to bother.”
“Mrs. Jameson—”
“Goodbye, Miss Hale.”
“Was Damon your son?” I shout out.
I can tell she hasn’t hung up and I’m holding my breath in wait of her answer. “I don’t have children,” she says sharply.
“I need to talk to you in person, Mrs. Jameson. I know you said you don’t have the time but I’m sure you can squeeze me in your busy schedule for fifteen minutes. Just tell me where to meet with you and I’ll be there.” She doesn’t answer and I hurry to go on. “Let me remind you that my job requires me to operate with absolute discretion. No one will ever know I spoke with you if that’s what you’re worried about.” I soften my voice. “Even if I’m wrong about my assumptions, I need to find this man, Mrs. Jameson. If he’s not your son then he’s another woman’s son. He’s someone’s brother. Your help could be essential.”
This time I actually wonder if she hung up without me realizing it. Eventually, she takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “Wednesday evening. At
the Washington monument. I won’t be able to stay for long though so you’d better have your questions prepared.”
“Thank—” The line goes dead and I’m left speechless. What the hell is wrong with her?
Next on my list is the phone number of the company who sold the aircraft. I arrange for a meeting in a couple of hours to show them a picture of Damon, just to make sure he was the one who bought it. At least those guys sound willing to cooperate.
I arrive at the meeting and immediately start my questions. I’m buzzing with excitement when they assure me it really was Damon who made the purchase. To my absolute surprise, they have dug out a video of that day and they show him to me.
There he is. As handsome as in his photo. Dark brown hair, lean, athletic body with roped muscles that peek from under the sleeves of his t-shirt. He is tall – 6’ 3’’ according to my files – and there is a haunted expression on his face that gives me the chills. As if he doesn’t care about anything and anyone. As if his blood has turned cold.
I know it sounds extreme but I really feel like I know him. I’ve never studied a person as much as I have him and it’s a little disconcerting. It’s like I’m reading a book and bonding with the character only this is reality. I feel like I know his expressions, his thoughts and his feelings at any given moment and I’ve only ever seen him in a photo. A still frame of a random moment in his life. Oh, and from the surveillance video I just saw.
I confirm all the information I have about the aircraft and attain one more little detail. Damon had asked for the aircraft to be delivered to a small airport a little outside of DC. As soon as I’m in my car, I call said airport.
“Hello?” a man’s voice answers.
“Yes, hi. My name is Cassandra Hale and I’m a PI. I was wondering if there will be someone there in the next hour? I need information about a private aircraft delivered there.”
“Sure, lady. Come over any time.”
About forty minutes later I’m at the airport.
“Hi, I’m Cassandra Hale, we spoke on the phone.”
“Yes, hi. Jack Callahan. How can I help?”
“I am looking for someone. He may have been here seven years ago.”