by G. K. Parks
“Open the door.” I kept my gun trained on him.
“Okay. Okay. Whatever you want. Just don’t hurt me.” Slowly, he unlocked the door.
As soon as I heard the click, I grabbed the handle and yanked the door open. The guy wore khakis and a blue polo. “Why are you following me?” I asked.
“Following you? I’m not following you.”
Grabbing his collar, I tried to yank him out of the seat, but the belt held him in place. Instead, I took his wallet from where he’d left it on the center console and glanced at his ID. Will Esposito. He was twenty-six, just a couple of years younger than me, but he looked like he’d be carded at bars.
“You can have my money. The car. Whatever. Just don’t hurt me.” He cowered as I leaned closer, my gun in his face. “My mom said I’d get carjacked in this neighborhood. Just let me out and you can take it.” He hit the seatbelt release with his right hand before raising his palms again. “Take it, okay? You can have it. I won’t fight you.”
He tried to get out of the car, but I blocked his exit. Allowing him to move about freely wasn’t tactically sound. None of what I was doing was tactically sound, but that was beside the point.
I stared at him as if he were nuts. “Do you see what I’m driving? Why would I want this piece of shit?”
“I dunno.”
I took a step back. “Why have you been following me?”
“I haven’t. I’m not.” He swallowed.
“You made every turn I did until I circled you. You followed me through the red. I saw you parked outside my apartment the last few nights and at the bar. Who the hell are you? What do you want?”
“What?” He shifted again, and I realized he’d wet himself. “I’m looking for 127 Claremont. I’m not following you.” For the first time, he realized we weren’t even on a main thoroughfare. Two or three cars had driven past us, but no one had stopped. No one wanted to intervene in a dangerous situation. He pointed to his phone mounted to the tray beneath his stereo. “I wasn’t paying attention to the traffic lights. I was just keeping up with the flow while I figured out the maps on the GPS.”
Nothing about his story rang true, but I had no way of disproving any of it. And with a few more cars approaching, it was only a matter of time before someone called the cops to check it out. “Don’t let me see you again.” I pointed down the street. “Turn left, then right. It’ll put you on Claremont. 127 should be on the left, about halfway down.”
“Uh…thanks.”
I got back in my car, wrote down his plate number, and waited for him to drive away. The cars behind us honked, annoyed by the inconvenience, but I didn’t care. I’d led him to a secluded area, but no city street was secluded during morning rush hour.
After hitting speed dial, I gripped the steering wheel to combat the jitters. “Justin, I need you to run a plate for me.” I gave him the SUV’s license plate number. “See what you can dig up. After that, run a name. Will Esposito. If everything checks out, call Mr. Almeada and see if he can squeeze me in. The sooner, the better.”
“Are you all right, boss? You sound a little out of breath.”
“I’m fine. I’ll see you soon.” Turning my car around, I headed in the opposite direction. No silver SUV tailed me, but I couldn’t shake the feeling someone was following me. “You’re losing it,” I told myself as I zipped through traffic and pulled into the parking garage near the office.
Slowly, I checked each level, but nothing suspicious caught my eye. I replayed my morning, wondering if I’d overreacted. The kid would probably call the cops. Traffic cams in the area would identify me in no time. By lunchtime, the police would have me in cuffs. My attorney better return my call. The best defense would be to have one ready to go before we had to scramble to come up with something, and right now, I had nothing, no proof of being stalked or followed. I couldn’t even be positive the silver SUV I kept seeing had been the same silver SUV. Today was the first time I’d gotten a plate number.
When I opened the door to Cross Security and Investigations, Gloria greeted me with a cup of coffee and a friendly smile. “Good morning, sir.”
“Thank you.” I took the coffee, wanting to hug her for the unexpected act of kindness, but I refrained.
“Mr. Almeada is in a meeting right now, but he’ll call you back as soon as he’s finished. He knows it’s urgent,” Gloria said. “Justin is conducting a consultation in your office, but he left the information you requested up on his computer screen.”
“Fabulous.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
“You’re wonderful, you know that?” I took a seat behind his desk and read the report. The SUV was registered to Lilian Esposito, a fifty-two year old woman. Will was her son. He had no criminal record.
“I do, but it’s nice to hear it,” she said.
“I’ll keep that in mind. I don’t imagine we’ll have any walk-ins today, but if we do, give them an appointment for later in the week and organize our calendar. Also, if you wouldn’t mind making arrangements to have breakfast and lunch delivered the rest of the week, something to keep the break room stocked for the interviewees and new client consultations we’ll be conducting, I’d appreciate it.”
“Do you need the bar in your office restocked?”
“Always.” I clicked a few keys and checked Will’s social media, not sure what I hoped to find. According to recent posts, he was starting a new job today. “Shit.”
“Is everything okay?”
“It could be worse.” I could be Will. A part of me hated that I’d possibly ruined this guy’s new job, and another part of me knew a silver SUV, just like the one he drove, had been following me for the last few days. I wasn’t convinced Will hadn’t been tailing me, but if I’d gotten the wrong SUV, that meant whoever was tailing me was still out there.
Going into the break room, I peered out the tiny window, but I didn’t see any suspicious vehicles parked in front of the building. All right, I had to let this go. I didn’t have time to chase ghosts or lunatics. I had a lead to follow on Trey Knox’s case and plenty of work to do in the office.
The phone rang. “Let me see if he’s in.” Gloria stepped into the break room. “Mr. Cross, a Mr. Freddy is on the phone. He didn’t give his last name.”
“I’ll take it at your desk.” This was just another reason why I needed a bigger office with more actual offices. Perhaps the break room, which had been a closet, should be converted into an extra office, but where would we put the espresso maker?
Gloria stayed in the break room to take inventory and figure out what we should keep on hand while I answered her phone.
“Hey, Luci, how’s it hanging?” Freddy G asked.
“What do you have for me?”
“So I called my guy who knows a guy. He’s been hearing whispers about that ring you’re looking for. He says he can’t get a hold of it since it’s already been promised to someone else, but he’ll keep looking in case there’s another one around. Then again, we could just have one made.”
“No, I need that one. Who’s it promised to?” With any luck, the answer was me.
“I don’t know. I tried to press him on it, but he didn’t like that. This isn’t exactly how I normally conduct business, and he knows it.”
“What do you normally do, Freddy?”
“If I can’t get it from one source, I go to another.”
“What happens if they all run dry?”
“They never all run dry, baby.”
I waited for Freddy to connect the dots.
“Yeah, okay, I’ll do some more asking around. Just know, if this were anybody else, I’d have one custom-made and pass it off as the real thing, but I know that won’t help you.”
“No, it won’t. Did your guy happen to mention anything about Pauley’s Pawn?”
“No.” But from Freddy’s tone, I didn’t entirely believe him. “You got a connection besides me, Luci?”
“Yeah, me.” I took a breat
h. “If you find out who it’s already been promised to or who the seller is, let me know.”
“That’ll cost you.”
“I’d expect nothing less.”
Freddy laughed. “Drop by the penthouse around midnight. I should have something for you by then. I expect the usual payment.”
“You got it.” Assuming the cops didn’t arrest me for assault with a deadly weapon.
Just as I hung up the phone, it rang a second time. Gloria poked her head out of the break room, but I shook my head. I hadn’t gotten to where I was without having to answer a phone a time or two.
“Cross Security and Investigations. Lucien Cross speaking.”
“Since when do you answer your own phone?” Mr. Almeada asked. “Did the hired help finally mutiny?”
“Don’t bust my balls. I’m having a hell of a morning.”
“Do I want to know?”
I told him what happened, including what I thought and where it occurred. “I don’t know if he’ll press charges.”
“He should. You got his name, right? Maybe I should give him a call and make a suggestion.”
“You’re not funny.”
“Maniacs with guns shouldn’t scare the piss out of people on their way to work,” Almeada said.
“I’m aware.”
“You need to act like it. I’m guessing you never filed a report or spoke to anyone in the police department about your stalker.”
“There was no point.”
“Did you tell this guy who you were?”
“No.”
“All right. Let’s hope he’s too embarrassed to say anything or make a report. You gave him directions, after all. That was nice of you.”
I rolled my eyes. “What would you suggest I do if the police come knocking?”
“Throw yourself on the mercy of the court, or do what you always do. Keep your damn mouth shut and wait for me to show up to save your ass.”
“Thanks.”
“Seriously, Lucien, I wouldn’t worry about it. You didn’t harm him or cause any property damage, so you might be able to write it off as road rage. You tried to make amends at the scene, and if pushed, we’ll say you’re willing to go to anger management. Now if you don’t mind, I have clients with actual problems. I’d prefer if you don’t turn into one of them, so stay out of trouble the rest of the day.”
“We’ll see.”
“I don’t like the sound of that.”
Ignoring the comment, I said, “While I have you, I wanted to let you know I’ll have half a dozen or so new employee contracts that need review by the end of the week.”
“Send them over. I’ll add it to your billables, along with this phone call. You know, if you keep this up, I won’t have to take on any new clients. Maybe I’ll just work for you.”
“Cross Security could use in-house counsel. What do you say?”
“Talk to me when you have a nice benefits package and partner perks to discuss.”
“I’ll have Justin draft a proposal.”
“Save yourself some time. I’m already at your disposal twenty-four seven, and I have too much invested with Reeves to jump ship now. My name’s on the fucking door. And I don’t think you have any desire to rename your company Almeada and Cross.”
As usual, my attorney was correct. Unfortunately, I had a terrible habit of not listening.
Fifteen
While my assistant conducted consultations and scheduled appointments, I dug deeper into Lenmere LLC. Since the company owned Pauley’s Pawn and the self-storage facility which supplied the rental van, I wondered if the pawn shop used that to hold their surplus storage or if something much more sinister was going on. Whoever broke into Mr. Knox’s home and stole his collection could have stored the stolen items in one of the many climate-controlled units. However, I couldn’t get names or unit numbers from inside my office.
“I’m going out.” I grabbed my keys and slipped on my jacket. “Forward any calls to my cell.”
“You got it, Mr. Cross,” Gloria said.
On my way across town, I kept an eye on my mirrors, but I didn’t spot a tail. The self-storage facility was near the water and guarded by a tall fence. The top had razor wire and spotlights posted around the perimeter. It looked more like a high-security prison than a place for people to stow their belongings.
The office was nothing more than a cinderblock shack with a glass door. Pulling open the door, I was assaulted by the pungent aroma of stale paint. From the looks of things, the place had probably been painted a couple of weeks ago, but without any windows or obvious means of ventilation, the fumes remained.
A man looked up from behind the desk where he’d been reading a textbook. “You looking to rent a unit?”
“Maybe.” I gazed at the price chart on the wall behind him. “What kinds of things do people keep in these units?”
“Furniture, boxes, y’know, just whatever.”
“Do you have a key to the units?”
“Nope. You bring your own lock.” He marked something in the margin of the book with his pencil, stuck a piece of paper inside, and closed the book. Physical Science. “What are you hoping to store?”
“Baseball cards.”
“You’re serious?” He gave me a cockeyed look. “How many baseball cards do you have?”
“Thousands.” I watched his reaction, but he looked shocked. If the thief used one of the units to stow Knox’s collection, he hadn’t shared that info with the guy working behind the counter. “Is that weird?”
“Whatever floats your boat, man. I don’t ask. We have a list of prohibited items.” He pointed to another sign before running his pointer finger across a pile of pamphlets. Pulling one out, he spread it open and pushed it across the counter toward me. “That’s what you can’t keep here, and you can’t live inside the unit. Nothing flammable or dangerous, either. Other than that, we don’t care what you put in your unit.”
I skimmed the brochure. “What about moving vans? I thought I saw a white panel van with your logo on it.”
“Yeah, we have a few parked out back. If you need to move things, you can rent one. We charge a daily rate and a mileage fee on top of that.” He grabbed a leaflet from a drawer and handed it to me. “Those are the rates, along with the sizes.”
“And your unit sizes?”
“They vary, but our largest is twelve by thirty. They all have drive-up access. You saw the electronic gate. You have to have the code to get in and out. It’s self-serve, so any time of day or night you can get your stuff or put stuff in. If you want us to accept deliveries for your unit, you can schedule those ahead of time. We can let the delivery driver in, but it has to be during business hours, and we won’t go in your unit. If the package is small enough, we’ll hold it here until you arrive. If it’s too large, we put it in our waiting area, but you can only get it during business hours, and we ask that you schedule a pickup appointment.”
“So I can’t get inside without the code?”
“Correct.”
“And to get the code, I have to rent a unit.”
“Also correct.”
I read the price sheet. “Give me the five by five.”
“We rent on a monthly basis, but if you want to sign up for six months or a year, you can save ten to twenty percent.”
“Let’s go month by month.”
“Sounds good. I just need you to fill this out.” He handed me a clipboard with an attached pen.
The best way to figure out what kind of customer information he possessed and where it was kept was by going through the process myself. So I filled out the form and handed it back to him. He entered the information in the computer while I did my best to lean over the counter and read over his shoulder.
“Did you want to rent a van to move your items in?”
“Is it another form?”
“No, we just add the charge here.” He looked up. “We already have a copy of your license for the unit rental, so it’s nothing
more than checking a box.”
“Yeah, all right.” I could check the inside of the van for clues, but I had to make sure he gave me the same one I spotted outside Pauley’s Pawn.
He grabbed a set of keys off the board and handed them to me. “Give me one sec.” He held up his pointer finger while he waited for the circle on the screen to stop spinning. “You’re all set.” He came around the desk. “Let me show you around.”
On our way out the door, he flipped the open sign to say, “Back in five.” Then he led me to the electronic gate. “The code is 2-2-1-7. We change it on the first of the month, every month, to encourage our customers to remember to pay.”
We went through the open gate, and I watched it close behind me. He led me down a row of units to the fourth one on the right. A-6.
“Is this my unit?” I asked.
“Yep.” He lifted the gate to show me the interior, which was nothing more than a five foot by five foot square with ten foot ceilings. “The thermostat is here. As you can tell, it keeps out the humidity and elements to keep your valuables safe. I’m sure you don’t want your cards to get damaged, so just set it and go. Should any malfunction occur, we are insured. However, if you’d like to take out additional insurance, we can do that for a fee.” He frowned, realizing he was supposed to have tried to upsell me while we were still in the office.
“No, this is fine. I’m sure nothing will go wrong.”
He showed me how to seal the unit and secure my lock, once I returned with one. Then he led me down a few more rows until we reached the vans. The keys he tossed to me belonged to a different van than the one I’d seen on the surveillance footage. “Can’t I take that one, instead?” I pointed to the van in question.
“What’s wrong with this one?”
“The rear tire looks a little flat, doesn’t it? I bet it has a slow leak. See how it leans.”
“Yeah, fine. Let me grab the other set of keys. Wait right here.”