It seemed a fair appraisal. I sat up straighter. “Ok. So tell me about this new case.”
“That’s more like it.” Sloan grinned. “And speak of the devil—I think this is our guy.”
I followed her eyes toward the door. A middle-aged man with sandy brown hair and dated glasses had just entered. His clothes looked expensive but were ill-fitted, with a wrinkled, drooping shirt and a sport coat two sizes too large. Even his pants were the wrong length, cut just short enough to give away his clear lack of interest in modern dress. But I thought his eyes looked kind as he approached a woman at the bar and smiled warmly. She tilted her face toward him for a chaste kiss.
Sloan leaned closer. “Seems like a harmless sap to me. Hopefully he is. But I was hired by his brother to make sure he’s not having an affair.”
“His brother? Why would he care?”
She paused for the waiter with our drinks. “He’s also his business partner. Ever heard of Westbrook Trading?”
I shook my head. “I’m fairly new in town.”
“That’s right. Well, it’s just your basic financial firm. Private investments, I believe. For the firm and a handful of wealthy clients. Don’t know too much about it yet. This guy and his brother own it, basically inherited it.”
I nodded for her to continue.
“So this guy that hired me, clearly the Alpha-dog in this partnership, says there’s an important deal on the table that could change the future of the company. But he’s suspicious of it, and thinks his little brother may be pushing for it for other reasons.”
I picked up my wine. “So he believes this guy is making a deal because of an affair?”
“Maybe. Says his brother’s acting funny, and wants to make sure it’s not because he has something untoward going with the other party to this deal, the CEO they’ve been working with.”
She paused to take a sip of her wine. “And if it’s not her, he wants to make sure there are no other indiscretions he needs to be worried about. According to him, it’s a family firm, and any sort of scandal could ruin their reputation.”
I looked over at the subject of our conversation. He and the woman were having a drink at the bar, talking quietly. “I have a hard time picturing that guy doing anything scandalous.”
Sloan nodded. “Agreed. But in my experience, you just never know what people are hiding.”
“So who is the woman? Is she the CEO?”
Sloan put her drink on the table and reached into her bag. “Let’s find out.” She pulled out a small tablet. “I didn’t do any preliminary research. It’s more fun to learn some things on the fly.”
She placed the device between us and fired it up. “We can start with the basics. Social media. For most people we don’t even need any special effort to get all kinds of personal information.”
Sloan pulled up a business networking site and pointed to the screen. She lowered her voice. “So this is the man that hired me. Richard Westbrook. Not really a guy I’d want to spend much time with if I didn’t have to.”
I checked out the picture. Early fifties, the man had a large, ruddy face and slicked-back dark hair beginning to gray at the temples. His suit appeared expensive and tailored to his husky frame.
I nodded and Sloan clicked on a link, pulling up a photo of the man in front of us at the bar. His professional photo was an only slightly-improved representation of the disheveled man.
“And this, of course, is his brother. The subject of our investigation, Walter Westbrook.”
We glanced over the page and she maneuvered to another website.
“Just as I suspected, this guy doesn’t have a traditional social media page. I can’t really see him posting selfies. But he’s listed on his wife’s profile.”
I leaned in to observe the photos she pulled up. They were clearly of the couple across the room.
“So he’s just out with his wife.”
“Looks like it. This business is not all uncovering evil-doing. That would’ve been way too easy. Often it’s just people being their normal, boring selves.” She picked up her drink and sat back in her chair. “But we can at least enjoy some drinks, courtesy of our client.”
I followed her lead. As we sipped in silence for a moment, my thoughts began to wander back to how all of this began. It must have taken some planning. How much does she already know about me?
“What is it?”
She was looking at me curiously. I realized that I was biting my lip in concentration.
“Oh. I was just wondering. Did you . . . well, did you do research on me too?”
“Of course.” She smiled. “Don’t worry, I didn’t follow you around or anything. Well, not really. But after we met, I was intrigued and decided to check you out.”
This felt very odd. “So what did you find?”
“Let’s see. You’re from a small city in southwest Virginia. You spent the last eight years studying across the state through grad school. Bit of a bookish type, not surprisingly. You moved down here in June to complete a final year of externship.” She paused to take a sip. “You live not far from here, alone. Drive a Prius, which fits with your recycling habit and the rest of your political beliefs. And you don’t get out too much just yet.” She smiled. “I’m hoping to change that.”
Whoa. But I guess that wasn’t too invasive. “No medical history?”
“I do like a challenge,” Sloan smirked. “But I’d much rather learn things from you. I only checked you out to get the basics on who I was dealing with.”
“So what was your conclusion?”
She sat in thought as she stared at her drink for a moment. “That you are very bright and driven, and have rarely ventured far from your tightly planned educational track. I think you ended up here with me because you’ve basically fulfilled your academic dreams, and yet still find something lacking. You need more.”
I felt my cheeks redden with recognition. Maybe she was a witch after all. “I think it’s possible you’re onto something,” I conceded.
“Well, that’s where I come in. Just hang with me for a few days. See if anything interests you. I have a feeling you have it in you.” She smiled. “And maybe I’m a little bored, too. So you’ll be shaking things up for me as well.”
I smiled back at her. “Fair enough.”
Sloan picked up her glass and relaxed into her seat. I did the same. We sat quietly for a moment. I watched the crowd, lost in thought about the strange scenario I found myself in. It was already seeming less strange.
Sloan’s voice interrupted my reverie. “Looks like we’re on the move.” She signaled the waiter.
I glanced over to see the man signing a credit card slip while his wife reapplied lipstick. The waiter delivered a similar slip to our table. Sloan quickly signed the bottom and handed it back. I looked at her inquisitively.
“I already set up the payment. Efficiency is key.” She threw her bag over her shoulder and stood. “Ready?”
The couple was on their way out the door. I quickly grabbed my bag and followed.
A few blocks from the restaurant, we stopped in the shadows and watched from a distance. The subjects of our surveillance had arrived on foot at their next destination, a local theater house. They stopped among the well-dressed patrons milling about outside.
“So this is definitely not the more typical get-your-hands-dirty case,” Sloan whispered. “The client just wants him followed, so we follow. It could be a great way to introduce you to this sort of thing.”
We watched the couple move toward the entrance, hand over their tickets and enter.
“Guess they were meeting for a drink until time for their play,” Sloan said. “Just a wholesome date night.”
“I assume we’re not following them in?”
Sloan shook her head and reached up to unclasp her strand of pearls. “I don’t think there’s much chance he’s going to get into any trouble while he’s out with his wife. So that gives us plenty of time to take care of somethin
g else. Hopefully something a lot more fun.”
She unbuttoned and shook off her cardigan to reveal an ultra-fitted black sheath dress. She looked stunning. Sloan stuffed the items in her bag and gave me a mischievous look. “Want to help me with a favor?”
Five
In a trendy nearby restaurant teeming with nightlife, we grabbed a high top table in the back bar area. Sloan threw her bag on the stool. “Another glass of wine?”
“Sure.”
Sloan made her way to the bar and caught the attention of the bartender immediately. I watched as she laughed amiably at some remark when he swiftly presented the drinks.
I raised my voice over the din of the bar when she returned with the drinks. “So what are we doing now?”
“We’re here to see that guy.” She nodded her head toward the bar.
“Who, the bartender?”
“Yep. I already knew just from his picture that the guy is probably a dirt bag. But I need to find out for sure for his girlfriend.”
“Oh. So is she another client?”
Sloan shook her head. “It’s for a source. Our client’s assistant. Her name’s Hannah.” She took a sip of her drink. “It was clear that Mr. Westbrook-the-elder wasn’t going to be helpful enough for my taste. He wouldn’t even let me see details of this deal that is supposed to be so important. Said it was top secret and irrelevant. So I made friends with his right-hand man. Secretly, of course.”
I took a drink, still confused.
Sloan chuckled. “Actually, that’s what you had inadvertently seen when you came to the conclusion I must be a Russian spy.” She smiled in amusement. “Hannah agreed to pass along whatever deal information she had access to—which apparently was not much. I was retrieving the documents.”
I thought back to the sight of Sloan pulling a manila envelope from the lining of the trashcan. “So why were they hidden?”
She grinned. “I made that up. She was worried about getting in trouble for helping, and I could tell that she would be into the whole cloak-and-dagger thing. It made her feel more secure by doing it in secret, but also made it exciting for her at the same time.”
I could relate to that. “I guess everyone has a little bit of a spy fantasy.”
“Seems like it. So when she confided that she was having doubts about a dutiful boyfriend she suspected was secretly a player, I offered to look into his moral character in exchange for a little help in getting the inside scoop in that company.”
I looked over at the bar. The bartender was attractive in a generic frat-boy sort of way. He appeared in his mid-twenties, his tan face and brown eyes framed by expertly tousled blonde-highlighted hair. His grooming and fitted polo shirt with turned-up collar gave him a confident and moneyed air.
“His name is Blaine,” Sloan said.
“Yeah, sounds about right.”
Sloan laughed. “I really don’t know anything else. I just figured we’d watch him for a bit, and then maybe get a feel for him up close.”
I nodded, watching Blaine chat with customers. “I’m with you. I don’t have much trouble picturing this guy being shady. I wonder what she sees in him.”
“Not really your type, huh?” Sloan smiled. “So what is your type? You have a secret boyfriend I couldn’t dig up?”
I shook my head. “Not seeing anyone at the moment. But if I were, he would definitely not be like this guy. Probably a little more—intellectual, I guess. And darker hair. Especially with light eyes.”
Sloan smirked. “So, basically yourself.”
I grimaced. “Disturbing. But yes, I suppose. Only a lot more masculine.”
Sloan nodded her understanding.
“What about you? You with someone?”
“No. I was in a serious relationship for several years. He was pretty great.” She shrugged. “Ever since that ended, I’ve found myself only attracted to bad boys.”
“What, like criminals?”
She laughed and shook her head. “Like tough guys. Not steroidal gym-rats, but real, confident manly men. Motorcycles are a plus. But not too many tattoos.”
I crinkled my nose. “Yeah, that’s definitely not my type either.”
“That’s good. I don’t really see them as long-term potential. But I guess that’s the point for me.”
She picked up her drink and gazed pensively at the surrounding crowd. I sensed I shouldn’t pursue the topic any further for the time being. I kept an eye on the bar as I sipped my wine. I was starting to get a bit of a buzz.
Sloan seemed to perk up suddenly. “You need another drink?”
I shook my head. “Just started this one. I’m a little lightheaded as it is. Do you drink like this for all your jobs?”
“Nah,” she replied. “A few sips makes the night go by, but I mainly just use them as a prop in places like these. But having you along tonight makes it much more social. I like it.”
Sloan hopped from her stool and smoothed her dress. “I think it’s time to have a little chat with Mr. Bartender. We’re going to need to flirt with him just a little. I want to see how he handles.”
I was suddenly a little uneasy. Sitting back and watching was one thing; I wasn’t sure I was ready to participate in any deceptions.
She seemed to sense my hesitation. “Or we could try it another way—you could pretend to be my girlfriend. I’ll do all the talking.” Her smile was devious. “That might work even better for a guy like that. Plus it always makes for an easy exit. ”
I laughed as I felt my face redden. “I don’t think so. How about if I stay here and just watch this time?”
Her face seemed to fall ever so slightly, but she smiled to cover it. “Sure, no problem.”
Suddenly I had an idea. “What if I just listened for now?”
Sloan shook her head. “Sorry, I don’t have any kind of surveillance devices with me.”
I dug my phone out of my purse and fired up the application I needed. I handed her the phone.
“Just take my phone with you. I’ll be able to hear everything.”
She frowned. “I’m afraid it might seem suspicious if you’re pretending to be on the phone the whole time. And I don’t think you’d hear that well.”
I grinned, pleased with myself. “I don’t need a phone. I’ll hear every word and I guarantee no one will be able to tell.”
Sloan looked thoroughly confused. “You brought a listening device?”
“Yes, the ones I use every day. Only I call them hearing aids.”
I pulled back the hair behind my ear to show her one of the devices.
“They help me hear some high-pitch sounds I’m missing,” I explained. “But now they can do some tricks, like letting me stream sound into my ears from across the room.”
Her jaw dropped. She examined my ear. “I had no idea you were wearing anything.”
She took several steps away and whispered discreetly into the phone. “So you can hear me from over here?” Her voice dropped to a dramatic whisper. “The eagle flies at midnight.”
I laughed. “Yes, Bond.”
She returned to the table, grinning with amusement.
“But you won’t need to talk into the phone,” I said. “It can pick up from all around. Just put it on the bar in front of you.”
Her eyes twinkled. “Oh, this is fantastic. Very convenient. I can think of many ways this will come in handy.”
“Let’s just try it out for now. Go do your thing, and I’ll listen and learn.”
“You got it.” She sauntered off and hopped onto a stool at the bar. The crowd had thinned, allowing Blaine to attend to her immediately.
“Boy am I glad you’re thirsty tonight,” he said. “What else can I get you?”
“Actually, I just need a water for my friend. I think she’s had a little too much to drink.”
It felt very strange, listening to the conversation that Blaine thought was private. I felt a little stab of guilt. But it was also invigorating to know that no one else in the r
oom had any idea what I was up to. Our little secret.
Sloan kept him busy with some banter. I could tell she was holding back, taking care not to be forward. She was just being friendly and giving him an opportunity to take it further, if so inclined.
He seemed to be so inclined. For his part, Blaine played it cool, fidgeting with bar items in the vicinity to look busy while he chatted. But his eyes belied his nonchalance. When Sloan slid off her barstool after a few minutes, he looked momentarily crushed.
“So wait . . . listen, you have a boyfriend?”
“No,” Sloan replied, flippant again. She grabbed the bottle of water. “But I better get my friend home. What do I owe you?”
“Don’t worry about it. You can pay me back next time.” His grin was almost charming.
Sloan gave the charm right back. “Ok. Well, thanks.”
He watched her return to the table. I marveled at her magnetism.
“That was incredible,” I said. “Practically all you did was smile at him.”
“It’s mainly confidence. With some practice and a little styling, I think we could get you going in no time.”
I blushed at the thought. Sloan handed me the bottle of water.
“Here, drink some of this. Then I think I’m ready to call it a night. You?”
“Sure.” I complied and we gathered our things.
Sloan paused for a moment. “No drinking next time, I promise. You in?”
Amazingly, I didn’t have to think. I just smiled in answer and headed for the exit.
Six
Luckily two glasses of wine may have given me a buzz, but they didn’t lead to a hangover. I woke Sunday morning refreshed, looking forward to the day. I couldn’t believe I had fallen into something so unlike me, and so quickly. One day I was bored, reading about surveillance in my novels, and the next I was secretly listening in on conversations. And I felt alive.
But I found myself wishing for that hangover on Monday morning. I could’ve used the excuse to stay home and avoid the new reality that awaited me at work. The reality that assailed me as soon as I walked in the door.
Impulse Spy (Sonic Sleuths Series) Page 3
