He eyed her coolly for a moment. “To be frank, I’m not so sure I do.”
She shrugged. “Then you’re wasting my time as well as yours, Mr. Norton.”
“Perhaps so,” he agreed.
“Are you naturally prejudiced against all woman or is it only me?” she asked, seething beneath her calm façade.
“That’s not what’s happening here, Miss Leahy. I’m damn
serious about this investigation. I’m just not sure you’re the right person for the kind of assistance I need.”
“And you made this decision based on what?” she asked
sweetly. “My size, my sex or the color of my hair?”
Before he could respond she put a hand up, shaking her head.
“Don’t bother answering that.”
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Anita Whiting
Straightening, she walked around to the other side of the desk, reaching into her briefcase. She leaned over and handed him a sheet of paper.
“To be frank, Mr. Norton, you’re very lucky that I’m feeling pleasantly full and amiable right now. Otherwise you’d be out the front door so fast your head would spin. I don’t need to seek clients. They come to me. Nor am I inclined to pull information from a potential one. That paper has a list of my most recent cases, names and numbers. I suggest, instead of wasting my time and yours, you talk to them.”
Brad stood, eyeing the papers in his hand before glancing at her. “I think I’ve been firmly put in my place.”
“That was not my intention, Mr. Norton.”
“Brad. And, yeah, it was. But you’re right, more investigation is warranted. Because I need whoever takes this case and works with me to believe what I believe. That requires mutual trust.” His eyes met hers. “Maybe we should both do a little more research.”
She was silent, opening the door and leading the way to the
foyer.
“You’ll be in touch,” she said calmly as he walked out onto the porch, closing the door behind him with a smart click.
“The hell I will,” he thought, irritated once again. Investigating drive-by shootings across state lines was a whole lot different than spying on a cheating spouse or whatever it was she played at. Just wait until he got hold of Kevin!
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Damn! Alex Leahy wasn’t only good, she was very good. Brad
ran a hand through his hair, staring at the computer screen in front of him. Not only had every one of her clients been extremely satisfied, but the scope of what she had investigated amazed him.
The woman had a sixth sense, at least according to the numerous local news articles he had just read. There were even some
national cases that she had consulted on.
He took a deep gulp of the beer and then grimaced at the warm taste, glancing at his watch. He was surprised to find he had been sitting in front of the computer for over an hour. He stood, stretching the kinks in his neck out and grabbed his keys. He'd better get a move on it if he wanted to be on time for his meeting with Miguel Santos.
Moments later, he slid into a parking place in front of Mugs, his favorite local bar. Nothing fancy about the place, but they made the best hamburgers in town. Miguel was sitting at a booth toward the back and waved to him, his mouth already full.
Brad ordered a beer, waiting until the waitress left before
greeting the dark-skinned man across from him.
“What, you couldn’t wait ten minutes?”
“Hey, señor, my stomach waits for no man.”
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The exaggerated accent didn’t fool Brad. Miguel Santos was one of the best criminal profilers in the country. He was also Brad’s closest friend and former college room mate. Their chosen careers didn’t allow them a lot of time to socialize, but they kept in touch just the same.
Miguel washed his food down with a swig of beer and leaned
back in his chair. “So you just yearned to see your old friend or you need me to pull your ass out of the fire again?”
Brad laughed. “Works both ways, old pal. I seem to remember
saving your sorry butt a few times as well.”
“Filthy rumors.” Miguel’s teeth flashed white in the dimness of the bar. “Okay, so what gives?”
Ten minutes later, his friend’s dark eyes were no longer
smiling.
“Hell, I’m sorry about your aunt, buddy. Rosa and I were on
vacation visiting family right around that time. I would have been there for you.”
Brad pushed away the quick wave of pain, touched at his
friend’s sincerity. “Thanks. I know you would have. What I really need to find out is whether Kevin and I are way off base or if there is something to what we both suspect.”
Miguel picked up the papers in front of him, reading the list Brad had handed him once again.
“I can’t tell you that without further investigation, Brad. What I can tell you is that what you suspect is possible. The human mind is an amazing thing. Capable of discovering great things and just as capable of planning unimaginable evil. However, my instincts are telling me there’s more here than meets the eye. Either this is
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just what it looks like or someone has an agenda that goes beyond just a relative in law enforcement.”
“Another link?”
“Could be. Only way to find out is to investigate each and every case a whole lot more thoroughly.”
“Cops already did that.”
“Maybe, but they weren’t looking for the same thing you would be.” He glanced at the list again. “Pretty big task. You’ll need help.”
“You aren’t offering your services?” Brad asked lightly.
“I’ll do what I can here, amigo, but if you’re going to do it right, you’ll need to interview family, see the crime scenes. With Rosa due in less than a month, I can’t go that far away.”
Brad’s thoughts ran to the lovely attorney his friend had
married. He genuinely liked Rosa Santos. Liked the way his
friend’s expression lit up when he spoke of her. Marriage wasn’t for him, never would be, but he was glad Miguel and his wife had made a success of it. Thus far, he thought cynically and
immediately chastised himself. He wasn’t objective and he knew it.
He took another gulp of his beer and mused out loud.
“My college buddy, a father. Can’t quite imagine the all-star linebacker changing diapers.”
Miguel’s smile was quick as he leaned forward, feigning a
whisper. “Worst part is, neither can I. Lucky Rosa doesn’t know that.”
Brad took another bite of his burger. “I still don’t know what the woman saw in you,” he teased.
“Can’t imagine myself, to tell the truth. What’s even weirder is she likes you, old buddy.”
Brad laughed. “Give her my love.”
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Anita Whiting
“Why don’t you do that yourself? Come over for dinner
Saturday and bring a significant other.”
For some odd reason, Alex Leahy’s face suddenly flashed in
front of him. He shook his head, grimacing. “Last one that fit that description slapped my face.”
“Still striking out in the woman department, eh, amigo?”
“I manage,” Brad said with a crooked curve of his lips.
“Speaking of that, ever heard of a Leahy Detective Agency?”
“Sure have. I know Alex very well. She’s one hot mama aside
from being very good at what she does. Why?”
“You know her that well?” Brad asked, surprised.
“Met her a few years ago. Remember the kidnapping case Rosa
was working on when she and I first met? Rich kid taken from his home here in Charleston.”
Brad nodded. “Clayton Kraft’s son. If I remember correctly, they discovered him somewhere in the hills of West Virginia on a tip.”
“Alex Leahy was responsible for that tip. Rosa introduced her to me before she testified at the trial. Classy lady. Went out to dinner with her a few times. She and Rosa have become fast friends.”
“So you think she’s a good investigator? She sure doesn’t look the type.”
Miguel tossed him a quick look. “Didn’t fall all over you, huh?
Rosa told me she had to work long and hard to get credit for her expertise. Probably because she doesn’t look like your typical PI.
As a matter of fact, she isn’t.”
“Isn’t what?”
“Your typical P.I. She senses things, sees things other don’t.”
Brad stopped mid-bite and put his burger back down. “What
are you saying?”
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“I’m saying she’s got something. Some kind of clairvoyance.
Kraft had the best there was looking for his son but she was the one that knew exactly where he was and what the kidnapper
looked like. Could even describe the man’s features.”
“You’re scaring me, pal. How many beers did you have before I got here?”
Miguel shook his head, lifting his glass. “Only my second. You don’t believe me, talk to Rosa. She’ll tell you. If you’re thinking of hiring her to help you with this, you got the right person in my opinion.”
Brad was silent as he finished his burger, considering what his friend had just said. He didn’t believe in ESP or any of that other stuff, but he also couldn’t ignore the fact that Alex Leahy had convinced some pretty impressive people of her talents.
“That invitation still stand for Saturday?”
“Yep. Bring the woman.” He tossed some money on the table.
“Assuming you can convince her to come with you. I gather the two of you didn’t hit it off right away?”
Brad reached for his wallet. “I’ll just use my considerable
charm,” he quipped, avoiding a direct answer.
“Yeah, and run the risk of getting slapped again? I’d just ask her straight out. It wouldn’t hurt to mention Rosa’s name, either.
Make it about six.” He slapped Brad on the back. “See you then, buddy.”
“Si, señor,” Brad shot back. “And thanks, Miguel.”
“That’s what friends are for.”
Brad walked slowly to his car, his mind racing. He slid in,
flipping his cell phone open at the same time.
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Anita Whiting
“Kevin, its Brad. I’m curious. Who recommended Alex Leahy to you?”
“Believe it or not,” Kevin answered on the other end, “an
associate of Carolyn’s.”
“Why that agency?”
“From what I hear, he’s good friends with the coroner. It seems this Alex Leahy came in the day after a particularly brutal
homicide involving a young mother and asked to see the victim.
After about fifteen minutes, she told him to call the police. She described the killer in detail. They put the picture on national television and had their murderer the next day.”
“Come on, Kevin. You’ve got to know that sounds crazy.”
“Crazy or not, this guy said he’d never seen anything like it.
Wasn’t the first time the police had used her services either.”
“Ever meet her?”
“Nope, but I hear she’s a knockout.”
“You knew Alex was a woman,” Brad accused.
“Yeah, I did. Also knew if I told you that fact you’d fight me even harder about hiring her.” Kevin’s voice changed. “Listen, Brad, I know you don’t like the idea of working with someone else, but we need all the help we can get. Even if it means taking our chances with a clairvoyant or whatever it is she is.”
“I hope you’re right. Call you in a few days when I have more.”
He disconnected the call, tossing the phone on the leather seat.
Damn it! Whether he liked it or not, it appeared he was going to have to hire one Alex Leahy. He absently pushed a button and the sun roof slid back. He welcomed the slightly chilly air as he made his way back home. He had interviewed several other agencies immediately after his meeting with Alex but, for some reason, none
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A Killer's Agenda
of them had impressed him. Worst part was, after their initial meeting, he wasn’t at all sure the woman would take the job
anyway. He might as well bite the bullet and swing by her office right now. Get the groveling over with as soon as possible and get on with the investigation. He didn’t like it, but it appeared he had no choice.
* * *
He found the charming old house that had been converted into several offices on a side road downtown and parked in front. A slightly plump woman with graying hair was sitting behind a desk busily typing on a computer. At the sound of the bell, she turned, smiling.
“Good afternoon, sir. What can I do for you?”
“I’d like to speak to Miss Leahy if she’s in.” He reached for a business card. “My name is Brad Norton.”
“As a matter of fact, she’s…”
The door behind her opened just at that moment and Alex
walked through, glancing down at some papers she held in her hand. “Nora, take a look at these. I’m not sure how old they are but—” She stopped speaking suddenly, her gaze finding Brad’s.
“Mr. Norton, I’ve been expecting you,” she said, her eyes cool and direct. “Please, come back to my office.”
Before he could say anything, she turned to her secretary. “Do me a favor, Nora, and hold all the calls until we’re done. Thanks.”
There was no mistaking the fact that she wasn’t a girl this
time, he thought, following her down a short hallway. The crisp green dress she had on was simple but it hinted at every curve
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Anita Whiting
beneath. It ticked him off that he felt at a disadvantage once again.
It was time to change that.
Her office took him by surprise. He was expecting antique
furniture, dainty chairs and whimsical paintings. Instead, it was no nonsense and serviceable. A huge oak desk sat in the middle with several filing cabinets behind it. There was clutter, but it appeared to be an organized mess. Comfortable chocolate-brown chairs flanked both sides of the room.
He was right about the paintings, however. He walked over to get a closer look. Several decorated the walls, one a soft watercolor of the sea and emerald green grass with children playing in the sand. Another, much darker, was of a castle. Its turrets were lit by a flash of brilliant lightning, huge waves from the sea splashing behind it. He could almost hear the roar of the tide and the crack of thunder. His gaze slid to the bottom and he turned, surprised.