The party dragged on. Two trays of hors d'oeuvres later, I was beginning to get anxious about what Sloan had found. It was time to discover something juicy. Suddenly Sloan appeared and headed straight for me. She grabbed the tray from my hands and laid it on a nearby table.
“They’re leaving together,” Sloan whispered. “She asked him for a ride home. Go out through the back and see what you can find.”
“You’re not coming?”
“It’ll be suspicious if we both disappear. I’ll try to get out soon. I trust you.”
I hesitated only a moment. When Sloan nodded toward a back hallway, I casually strolled out of sight and exited onto the back patio. As I rounded the side of the house, I spotted the pair and hid behind manicured shrubbery. Walter helped the woman into his passenger seat.
Once they were on the road, I made a run for my car down the street.
We still hadn’t officially gone over how to tail properly. I just pictured scenes from movies and television, where people in dark sunglasses casually weaved through traffic, following at a distance. It didn’t look that hard.
I couldn’t use sunglasses at night, but I stayed back what I thought was a reasonable distance and kept my eye on the tan Infiniti. While we drove I removed my earrings and twisted my fake hair into a clip to change my appearance a bit. It felt very professional spy-like.
What did not feel professional spy-like was losing the target during a simple tail. As we approached a large intersection, Walter suddenly moved to the far right, crossing three lanes of traffic at the last second. Does he know I’m back here? It didn’t seem likely. But I couldn’t possibly copy his maneuver without raising suspicion, especially in the light traffic, so I was forced to continue on through the intersection. Walter turned and disappeared.
I took a right at the next intersection, hoping it would head toward a crossing. This section of town, mostly suburban commercial, was not set in a grid pattern. As the road began to wind in the opposite direction, I felt a panic forming. I had probably lost them. This could be the crucial moment, and Sloan trusted me with it. I couldn’t let her down like that.
Luckily, I was generally good with directions. Even though the area was unfamiliar, I had a pretty good feel for where I was in relation to where I thought the Infiniti was headed. When an opportunistic turn appeared, I took it and raced through several side streets, trying to get back on track. If they had turned off the main road already, I was sunk. I would never find them in the maze of neighborhoods surrounding us.
Finally, I found the original thoroughfare he had taken. I turned left onto the road and sped, trying to catch up. No sign of them. Just as I was ready to call Sloan in defeat, I saw taillights in the distance ahead. A minute later they turned off the main drag, and I was relieved to see the car could be a match. I zoomed ahead to follow again.
Whether it was them or not, I would definitely have to keep my distance as we rolled through the residential area. The car wound its way through a nice middle-class neighborhood and slowed in front of a two-story red-brick home. I made note of the address but had no choice but to continue past. I took the next turn and parked, hidden by the house on the corner. Once again I was grateful for my car’s stealth-mode engine that cut off silently.
It was at this point I realized I wasn’t sure what Sloan expected me to do, and I didn’t have long to consider. I disabled the door light and slipped out of the car, camera in hand. The neighborhood was very quiet, settling into bedtimes. I peeked around the corner of the house and was able to catch a glimpse of the pair walking away from the car. Target confirmed. Only a few houses down.
I knew if he went into the house, presumably the mystery woman’s, it would be crucial to get a shot of it. Moving to the backyard, I found my path unencumbered by fences and raced across several lawns through the shadows, praying there were no motion-activated lights along the way.
I emerged along the side of the red brick house just as they stepped onto the low front porch. A clear view. I tried to slow my breathing to ensure I wouldn’t be heard.
They chatted a moment before the woman unlocked the door. I couldn’t quite make out what they were saying. Just a few friendly laughs from the woman. She pushed the front door open and turned back to Walter. He offered his hand, as if to shake with a business acquaintance. The woman returned his grasp. Maybe there’s nothing going on here. Oh—wait. The woman reached up his arm with her other hand. It no longer looked so businesslike. I couldn’t see Walter’s face. I began snapping photos.
The woman stepped closer to Walter, now speaking so softly that the only evidence was the moving of her lips. Her face moved dangerously close to his. He didn’t seem to respond. Finally he took a step back, shaking his head. He gently but gingerly removed her hand from his arm.
I felt a vague affection for Walter as I watched the woman’s expression turn from sultry to offended. He waited for her to retreat into her house, then headed for his car. I made sure to capture the entire scene on the camera. Point one for Walter’s integrity.
As he climbed into the Infiniti, I realized my job wasn’t quite over. He was my responsibility until he was tucked safely in for the night. I turned on my heel and sprinted back to my car, grateful I had recently reintroduced my running routine. I would need to be in shape to handle this hobby.
Was this a hobby? Maybe more of an addiction.
Thirteen
Except for his abrupt lane-changing earlier, which may have been due to a distracted passenger giving directions, Walter drove nothing like his brother. I followed him effortlessly for a few miles to another neighborhood, this time of slightly grander homes. I felt certain he was headed home. I stayed down the street when he pulled into the garage of a large two-story traditional and lights flicked on in the darkened house.
Unsure where to go next, I tried Sloan’s phone. No answer. I figured she could be still handing out hors d'oeuvres, working her cover. Lights came on upstairs in Walter’s house. Headed to bed. Maybe I should just do the same? Giving it just a few minutes, I pulled out the camera to review the photographs and consider what I had seen so far.
I looked through the collection, cringing every time headlights passed and illuminated me sitting suspiciously in my parked car. So far everything checks out on this guy. I should get out of here. I returned the camera to its case and placed it within reach in the back.
Suddenly my passenger door swung open and a hooded figure in black launched themselves into the seat. My heart stopped for a moment. With the overhead light disabled I couldn’t see their face.
But the panic only lasted a moment as I quickly placed the bare leg and peep toe heels. Sloan. She pulled down the hood of her sweatshirt and faced me, grinning.
“Don’t you keep your doors locked?” she said. “Rule number one: always protect yourself. I could’ve been anyone.”
I gaped at her, my pulse still jagged. “What are you doing here? How did you find me?”
She shrugged. “I put a tracker on your car.”
“You what?”
She pulled down the passenger visor and began fixing her ruffled hair in the lighted mirror. “I told you, protection is a priority. I don’t want to send you out on something without being able to find you. Especially with you as a beginner. I’m responsible for you, newbie.”
Well, technically I was working for her, although we hadn’t actually discussed any pay at that point. Maybe it did make sense for her to have tabs on me. I could feel safer. It was just the secrecy of it that was so jarring.
Then it occurred to me. “Wait, if you had a tracker this whole time, why didn’t you just use it on our guy? I could’ve followed him without all the stress. I almost lost him.”
“You want to learn the skills, right?” Sloan gave her usual confident nonchalance. “You won’t always be able to have technology do the work. Have to learn to do it old school.”
Hmph. She was right, but all the toying with me was a little irksome.
You never knew what to expect with this girl. I handed over the camera without a word, letting my best frustrated face do the talking.
Sloan ignored my expression and glanced quickly through the photos I had taken. Then she laid the camera in her lap and looked to me with a mock frown. “You still mad at me?”
I had to laugh at her exaggeration. “It does make sense for safety reasons. But you sure like to keep things secret until the last second, huh?”
Sloan grinned. “Of course. What fun is telling everything up front? Surprises are the best.”
“Interesting.” I gave her a mischievous look. “I’ll have to remember that.”
“Oh, no. It’s only fun when I do it.”
Both of our eyes flicked to the house down the street as we perceived a change. The upstairs lights had turned off. Walter had gone to bed.
Sloan turned back to me and held up the camera. “This is great work. You can clearly see there was some kind of opportunity, and Walter didn’t go for it. Could you hear what was going on?”
I shook my head. “Too far away.”
“And no chance you were seen, right?”
“No way.”
“Then I’m wondering what we’re doing here,” Sloan mused. “So far he’s a nice guy who takes out his wife, gives women rides home, and turns them down on their doorstep. What am I missing?”
“And you didn’t see them first talk at the party. I’m not sure if he already knew her or not—but I swear she made a beeline for him when he walked in, and purposefully created a reason to talk to him.”
Sloan shook her head in disbelief. “That would seem reasonable if he were someone else. Younger, sexier, more charming. Or really rich. He looks like he’s doing well, but certainly not women-throwing-themselves-at-him wealthy. I really don’t get it.”
“I’m with you.” I looked toward Walter’s darkened house. “I assume there’s nothing else on the agenda for tonight?”
“Looks like that’s it. But if Blaine is working at the bar tomorrow, I’d like to have another chat with him.” Sloan grinned. “Now that we know he’s Richard’s son, we can try to squeeze some information out of him, too. Two birds with one stone.”
She opened the car door to exit. “See you tom—wait.”
I followed her eyes toward Walter’s house. The light had returned upstairs. She pulled the door shut again.
I glanced at Sloan. “Midnight snack?”
“Probably something like that. Let’s just wait to be sure.”
We watched in silence. More lights appeared. A few minutes later the garage door opened and Walter’s car began backing down the driveway. I looked at Sloan in surprise.
She narrowed her eyes, dubious. “Don’t tell me he has a booty call. Although the wife is out of town . . . ”
I shook my head. “I don’t buy that.”
“Let’s find out.” She opened her door again as Walter’s car began down the street. “We’ll both follow. It’ll be easier with two cars. Stay way back and I’ll tell you when to take the lead.”
She slipped out of the car and ran, pulling her hood back over her head. I had apparently never even noticed her vehicle pulling in down the street behind me. Her car took off down the road and I fell in far behind them.
On the drive I began to learn some tips for a multi-car tail. Sloan would turn away from the target and I would move in closer. Then we would switch positions again, never getting too close. Repeat as necessary. I believed I could get the hang of it.
When we pulled onto a smaller secondary road, I knew we had to be nearing our destination. The commercial street was lined with dark restaurants and shops, all long-closed at this time of night.
Sloan’s voice sounded in my ear. “I’m going to pull off up here. Follow him into wherever he’s going.”
I saw her taillights ahead turn onto a side street and increased my speed slightly. A minute later the Infiniti pulled off as well. I yanked the wheel and entered the gas station next door to avoid obviously following him into the mostly empty lot.
Walter pulled up to the unlit front door of a two-story white stucco building and hustled inside. Only the sign out front was illuminated, indicating the place was an Italian restaurant. Villa Coppola. Clearly looked closed. I couldn’t possibly follow him inside at this point, especially still wearing my catering outfit. So I watched, intrigued.
Walter quickly reappeared in the doorway with another figure. The hefty man was slumped over, an arm over Walter’s shoulders. Richard.
Walter moved carefully to the other side of his car, clearly straining under the weight of his swaying older brother. He managed to open the door and Richard flopped unceremoniously into the seat. Walter tucked him in and returned to his seat behind the wheel.
Sloan was still connected by phone but had stayed quiet while I figured out the scene. As Walter pulled out of the lot, I caught her up and let her know his direction. She moved back into position for the return tail.
Meanwhile I scanned the lot for Richard’s car. Sure enough, his red Porsche was sitting in the front row.
“So ‘ol Dick was sloppy drunk, huh?” Sloan said. “Wonder how often his little brother has to come rescue him.”
“Don’t know. But with all his debt, drinking could be either the cause or the result of his money problems. Or possibly both.”
“Good point. We should check out the charges on his credit cards more closely. Maybe our client has all sorts of vices.”
The case and client were definitely curious. “So what’s he doing being so nosy about his brother’s private business then?”
“That’s a very good question.”
Fourteen
I slept late Sunday morning, exhausted from the long day of snooping. Once Walter had deposited his brother at his house and it was clear he was headed home again, we had finally called it a night. I had the afternoon free before we would meet up just as Blaine’s bartending shift started downtown.
I continued my new routine of a workout and finalizing preparation for my research study. I only had two more weeks before my free time would be tied up with data collection and then analyzation. And I hadn’t exactly been focused on it thus far.
No disguises were required that night. We had agreed I would play only an ancillary role in this interview. Sloan figured that Blaine would be more candid, and more forward, if she appeared to be alone. I had no problem with taking a backseat. I had yet to actively, purposefully perpetrate a deception, except for a little white lie to get out of a jam, and I just wasn’t sure I was ready to yet.
Instead I would simply listen and record their conversation, by combining my hearing device streaming with a recording program on my phone. My presence wasn’t truly necessary, but Sloan wanted the backup and a second take on the situation. I was happy to stay involved.
At the appointed time that evening, I entered the restaurant and headed toward the back. But just before I reached the bar, I followed Sloan’s directions and took a right turn.
The alcove I found myself in separated the sunny restaurant in front from the dimly-lit back bar area. Small rectangular cutouts in the walls leading to the restrooms allowed slivered views into both sections. Positioned next to the bar but hidden from view, I would be able to stay connected to Sloan’s conversation. The plan didn’t require Blaine ever even knowing I was there.
I pulled out my phone and readied it. A quick peek into the bar informed me that Blaine was on duty. A moment later Sloan appeared around the corner. Wordlessly she checked her hair in the hall mirror, gave me a quick wink, and continued on into the back.
The sound levels increased in my ears as I tuned into her path toward the bar. Blaine’s voice didn’t take long to materialize. His greeting indicated he clearly remembered her.
Sloan giggled. “I’m supposed to be meeting someone, but I’m not sure if they’re coming.”
“Well, just my luck. I’ll be glad to keep you company.”
I settled in
for a long, flirtatious back and forth. I knew Sloan wouldn’t just jump right in; she would need to warm him up first, create a bond between them. Then she’d likely be able to ask him anything. Once again I listened closely to learn how she handled things. She took her time, resuming the conversation in between his service of other customers.
Blaine eventually got back around to what I believed was his agenda. “So listen, you said you don’t have a boyfriend? How is that even possible?”
I took another peek through the wall opening. Blaine was leaning across the bar toward Sloan, elbows resting on the bar top. She had his full attention.
Sloan gave him a shrug with a coy look in return. “No guys have been holding my interest, I guess.”
Blaine was still leaning across the bar, enraptured, when I moved away from the window.
“So you’re available, then?”
“Well, I didn’t say all that,” Sloan replied. “I am attracted to ambition, though. And money doesn’t hurt.”
“Well hey, you wouldn’t believe it, but I’m loaded with both.”
Sloan laughed good-naturedly. “You’re right, I wouldn’t believe it.”
“Okay, well maybe not this second. But my dad is. And he’s grooming me to take over one day.”
“So is this just a second job then?”
“Nah, but I won’t be here much longer. My dad’s cutting me off. I have to go work for the family company and ‘earn for myself.’ So unfortunately, no more chatting with beautiful ladies like you for a living.”
“Ouch,” Sloan said. “But maybe the job’s not so bad. You said you’ll be in charge one day. That’s kinda hot. So what does your father do?”
“The company is Westbrook Trading. Ever heard of it?”
“Um, maybe. Investing, I’m guessing?”
“Exactly,” Blaine replied. “All kinds of boring financial stuff. My dad’s the president. Well, co-president, with his brother. So I should be ranking up pretty good in no time. Never really wanted to be one of the suits, but I guess learning to be their boss could be alright."
Impulse Spy (Sonic Sleuths Series) Page 8
