Her Private Dick Pt. 01

"Has that happened to you before?"

"What? Run into a dead end?" She nodded. "Not yet... but then, this is a different type of case from what I normally do."

"What do you normally do?"

"Over lunch?"

She smiled. "My car or yours?"

"Can we go in yours? I've never ridden in a Benz before."

"Sure. Want to drive?"

He did, but... "No, that's fine."

She saw his face light up at the suggestion before he schooled it back to normal. After he locked his office, she gently underhanded him the keys. The car had a pushbutton start, so he didn't need the keys, but it gave him the idea.

"Here," she said with the toss. "I don't know where to eat around here, and I don't feel like driving all the way across town, so you should drive."

He caught the keys in one hand. He debated giving the keys back but decided this might be his only chance to drive a car like this. "What are you in the mood for?" he asked as he stepped to the passenger side and opened the door for her.

"Surprise me."

Josh had a hard time not smiling the entire time as he drove them to a decent Mexican place he liked, the burble of the car's V8 and the sense of explosive power making the car thrilling to drive. They talked mostly about the car, and how even if he could afford a car like her Merc, he wouldn't own one because it was too flashy and noticeable.

When they arrived at the restaurant, he'd have opened her door again, but she didn't wait. They'd arrived after of most of the lunch crowd and were immediately seated in a booth for four.

"You were going to tell me the types of cases you normally take?" she prompted after they'd ordered their fajitas.

He sighed. "Divorce work, mostly," he said, trying to put the best spin on what he did that he could.

"Divorce work? As in looking for hidden assets, that sort of thing?"

"No... as in catching people cheating... which I'm sure often leads to divorce... or helping some cutthroat divorce attorney trying to take somebody's kids away."

"Oh," she grunted, not sure what to make of the news and hoping she hadn't made a mistake. His website mentioned surveillance, but she hadn't understood what that meant... until now. "Do you enjoy it?"

"No, not really. Last night, after I left your parents' house, I had to break the news to a woman that her husband was cheating on her." His lips thinned with the memory. Mrs. Marker had ambushed her husband with the meeting, and he'd had to present his report in front of both Tony and Susan. It had been supremely uncomfortable, with Tony first denying, then threatening him and ordering him from his house, to finally trying to explain as the evidence against him mounted. The only saving grace was it didn't appear their children were home. "I hate doing that."

"It's not your fault the guy was cheating."

"I know, but I get so tired of delivering bad news. I've done maybe twenty cases for individuals, and in all but one of them I caught the spouse doing something they shouldn't. It's been my experience that if someone thinks their spouse is having an affair, they probably are."

"And the one that you didn't catch?"

"I think the guy was just a workaholic. His wife thought he was cheating, but he went from home, to his office, and then back home. I even snuck into the office once as part of the janitorial service, to make sure he wasn't doing someone in the office, and found the guy at his desk, alone, working away."

"How'd you do that?"

He smiled, but there was no humor in it. "You'd be surprised how much access a pair of twenties given to the right person will grant you."

"You're not happy busting cheating spouses?"

"No, not really. It wasn't what I thought I'd be doing."

"What did you think you'd be doing?"

"This. Helping people find missing loved ones, catching people with their hand in the cookie jar, insurance fraud, that sort of thing."

She had a sinking feeling in her stomach. "Is mine the first case like this?"

"Yes, unfortunately."

The weight in the pit of her stomach grew heavier. "Unfortunately... how?"

He shrugged. "No reason. Like I said, this is what I wanted to do, not what I've been doing."

"So, how'd you end up in the PI business?" she asked, as their food arrived, debating with herself if she should continue with JSI or find someone who hadn't spent all his time chasing cheating spouses.

"Nothing to tell really. I went into the Marines right out of high school, became a marksman, and then after three tours, I'd had enough. I was tired of being in shit holes, eating dust, and wondering if today was the day I'd miss something and one of my friends would die. I've applied for jobs in police forces from here to California, but so far, nothing. Went to work for myself, and this is one of the few jobs I can find that the military trained me to do."

"I saw on your website you were in the military. You were a Marine?"

"That's right. A sniper."

Her eyebrows inched up. She'd assumed because his website was cagy about his service, he'd worked in a support role. She wouldn't have guessed him as being involved in front line combat, and as a sniper?

"What did the Marines teach you that you can use as a private investigator? How to kill people from long range?" she asked with a grin. "While I don't condone cheating, that seems a little harsh."

"Not that," he replied with a smile of his own. "It's how to move without being seen. Hitting a target is easy. Getting into position without being seen, that's the hard part."

"So you're good at sneaking around?"

"Yes, but I'm also good at blending in. Hiding in plain sight so to speak. That's why I drive a Honda Accord. There are millions of the things sold every year. Nobody pays any attention to another one... unlike your car."

She bobbled her head in agreement as the weight in her stomach eased slightly. Maybe she'd made the right choice after all. "I can see that."

"What about you? How'd you end up managing your dad's automotive empire?"

"I started working there when I turned sixteen, running parts during the summer. When I graduated high school, I went to UVA and got a degree in business and marketing. My grandfather helped Dad get started twenty or thirty years ago by loaning him the money to buy a failing Volkswagen dealership. When the VW Group saw that he was turning the dealership around, they allowed him to add Audi and Porsche. Ten years or so ago, he bought out BMW of Virginia Beach, and then a couple of years ago, Norfolk Mercedes, but as he began to lose interest in the day-to-day operations, I slowly began to take them over."

"It appears you're doing well."

"Yes, but don't let the car fool you. That's a company car. I do okay, but I don't do that okay."

"You enjoy it?" he asked. He was fascinated that Hazen can be so normal when her family seemed to be such fruitcakes.

"I do. It's very rewarding, and we're still growing. We're in talks to buy out Wescott Auto Group. If we take them over, that'll add Chevrolet, Buick, Cadillac, Ford, and Lincoln to our portfolio, to give us a larger presence down market. Right now, all we have in that market is Volkswagen, and frankly, they're afterthought for most people. They're what our Porsche owners buy for their nannies. Adding Westcott will add six to eight hundred percent to our sales volume. We won't make as much off each car, but we'll sell a lot more of them."

"Was that your idea or your dad's?"

"Mine. He had to sign off on it though."

"Sounds like you have a keen eye for business."

"I like to think so." She paused for the briefest of moments before deciding to stick with Josh for the time being, for all the reason's she'd selected him in the first place, and not allow herself to second guess her decision just because of the types of cases he'd taken so far. "That's why I came to you. I liked the way you presented yourself online. Very professional."

"Why, thank you, Ms. Allen," he said, putting on a heavy southern drawl and a grin.

"You're so very welcome, Mr. Stallard," she responded in kind.

"You ready to do this?" Josh asked as he settled into one of the guest chairs and turned his computer around to face him.

"No, but I suppose it has to be done," Hazen replied as she sat in the other chair and opened her computer.

He agreed. He liked Hazen, and he'd much rather sit and talk to her than dig through all of Koda's credit card transactions, but this was their last chance to pick up his trail without some luck being involved. Fortunately, Koda had only been ashore for a couple of weeks, so that should reduce the number of transactions they had to dig through.

"Yes, it does."

"The same thing as before? Looking for oddball transactions?"

"Yes, but in addition to that, we have to try to track down where the transactions happened. That's why this is so much more difficult. If Koda rented a motel room in California, for example, that's a clue to his whereabouts. The problem is, trying to determine where each transaction originated. The credit card company can tell us, but that takes forever. It's better, and faster, if we can determine it for ourselves."

"How are we going to do that?"

"Start with the latest transaction and work our way back. Hopefully some of the transactions will have store numbers or something attached to them."

"Okay, here's the first one. Circle K. There's a store number... 6526."

He typed on his computer a moment. "This says that's in Boca Raton, Florida. Hmmm... that's interesting. Why would he be buying gas in Florida?" He made a note of the store's number and address in the app he used to keep track of facts.

"Don't know. Next one is a BP, store number 11651."

He used Google, had his answer in a moment, and added that to the list. "Is this one newer or older than the Circle K one?"

"Same day. Monday."

He leaned over and looked for himself. "Charged and posted on the same day as the Circle K one. This one is in Savannah Georgia. What the hell? Find another gas station from Sunday or Monday, if you can."

"Next charge is a Circle K. Sunday. No store number but it says, I guess that's Rocky Mount, North Carolina?"

He looked at the screen. "That's what I'd guess, yeah. Why would your brother go to Florida?"

"Beats me."

"Do you have family or friends down there?"

"Not that I know of. Koda may know someone, but I don't."

He leaned back in his chair. He tried to think of a gentle way of putting this, but there was no way. "I think you have your answer. It looks like Koda really has gone AWOL. It'd be best if you called the Navy and told them where he is. It'll go better for him if they catch him sooner rather than later."

She stared at her computer, thinking furiously. "Something isn't right. I'm telling you, Koda wouldn't just leave and go to Florida. He just wouldn't, even if he weren't AWOL. He doesn't do things like that. He just doesn't. It's almost impossible to get him to try a new restaurant, so there's no way in hell he just hopped into his car and drove to Florida."

"Is his car missing?"

"I don't know. I don't have any way of knowing since he lives on base."

"Do you have another explanation?"

"No, but there has to be one."

He felt bad for her, but he didn't know what else to tell her. He stared at Koda's charge records as he tried to think of a way to comfort her. "Wait a minute," he said, leaning closer to the computer. "Look at the charge amounts. Just two or three bucks each time. Either he has the most fuel-efficient car in the world or he's not buying gas. That means he's riding with someone."

"Okay, so?"

"So... he's not helping with gas, but they're paying his meals? I don't see any restaurants in the last couple of days, do you?"

Her gaze flicked down the current charges. "No, I don't see anything. Just Byrd & Baldwin on Friday. He paid for dinner, and that's about the right amount."

He leaned back in his chair still thinking furiously. "You're right. Something isn't adding up. Koda goes to Florida, in a car, he doesn't buy gas, but he doesn't pay for a motel or food either." He paused as he stroked his chin. "So he either has a generous benefactor, which is always possible, or... kidnapped? But that doesn't make sense either. If he were kidnapped, why, and why would he be spending a couple of bucks here and there? Pretty sloppy kidnappers to let him roam around, don't you think? Can you look at his cell phone bill?"

Her heart pounding, she typed furiously for a moment. "Okay. What am I looking for?"

"Any calls since Sunday?"

"No. Not one."

"Can you get into his voice mail?"

She grunted. "I've never tried."

"Try. What's his phone number?" he asked as he picked up his cell.

She rattled off his phone number as Josh typed.

He placed the device on speaker when it began to ring. This is Koda. Leave a message, a man's voice said. He pressed zero then entered Koda's phone number again at the voice prompt. When the phone asked for a password he looked at her.

"Try ten, fourteen, ninety-two."

I'm sorry. That is not the correct password, the phone replied.

"Okay... eighteen twenty-eight."

I'm sorry. That is not the correct password.

"I don't know what it could be!" she cried in despair.

"What's the last four of his social?"

She typed on her computer a moment. "Fifty-nine oh-six."

I'm sorry. That is not the correct password.

He drummed his fingers on his desk a moment. "What's his birthday?"

"That's the first thing I gave you."

"Give it to me again." She did, but he typed it in year first this time.

I'm sorry. That is not the correct password.

"What's your birthday?"

"Two, four, eighty-nine."

I'm sorry. That is not the correct password.

He entered it again, year first.

I'm sorry. That is not the correct password.

"Dammit," he muttered, but then tried again with oh-two, oh-four, eighty-nine.

You have twenty-six unheard messages.

He grinned and slapped Hazen's palm in a high-five when she held her hand aloft. They listened to Koda's voice mails. The first three were from a Lieutenant Gabbard, wanting to know where he was. The next dozen or so were from increasingly frantic sounding friends, trying to reach Koda to find out where he was and why he hadn't reported for duty. There was a long message from a stern sounding Commander Thomas Richmond from the JAG--the Navy's legal arm--who threatened dire consequences if he didn't report to his commanding officer immediately. There were several more from friends, another from Lieutenant Gabbard, three from Hazen, and then nothing.

"Nothing useful," Hazen mumbled, her gaze cast to the floor.

"Not... necessarily," Josh replied slowly. "Look at it this way. Assume that your brother did go AWOL on his own, why wouldn't he listen to his voice mails... or why would he keep them even if he had? That doesn't make much sense to me. It's looking more and more like Koda is being coerced in some way... as farfetched as that sounds."

"You think someone kidnapped him? Why?" Hazen asked, her eye wide with hope and surprise.

"Beats the hell out of me, but not necessarily kidnapped. Remember, they were letting him walk around free enough that he could buy snacks, or whatever, when they stopped for gas. Maybe they threatened you or the rest of your family if he didn't cooperate. Something like that."

"Maybe, but why would they threaten one of us? We're just normal people." A faint smile danced over her lips. "Mostly. So, what do we do now?"

"We go where the trail leads."

"We're going to fly to Boca Raton?"

"Not fly. Drive. I want to hit all the same stops Koda did... at least those we know about."

She grunted. "How far is it to Boca Raton from here? Twenty hours? More?"

"You don't have to go."

"Oh, no. You're not going anywhere without me. You've seen how much help I can be."

He had to admit, they'd made amazing progress for less than a day's work, progress made primarily because Hazen was there to answer questions and give him access to most of Koda's personal information.

"We can spend the night in Savannah. That's what Koda appeared to do. Maybe we'll get lucky. If you're sure you want to go, I'll pick you up at your house in the morning. Also, can you send me a picture of Koda? Find one that shows his face the best."

"Sure, I can do that now. What time?" she asked as she searched among the pictures on her computer for one of Koda.

"Nine?"

"Found one. I'm sending it now. I'll be ready... but you're going to miss Mom and Dad's party," she said, her voice serious but her small smile gave away her teasing.

"Good thing I already made my apologies, huh?"

Josh pulled to a stop in front of Hazen's single car garage. Her house was a middle unit, the cluster of red brick townhomes nestled among single residence houses that had to cost a million dollars if they cost a dime. He followed the short walk from the driveway to her front door, but when he reached for the bell, the door opened.

"Ready?" she asked, her suitcase at her feet beside the door. Josh had called her when he reached the gate to her community, so she'd been hovering, watching through her front window for his car.

"If you are."

She lifted her bag and stepped out, Josh taking it from her hand which allowed her to easily lock her door. He was waiting for her, and when she turned him to him and reached for her bag, he casually switched it to his other hand.

"Why don't we take my car? It'll be more comfortable," she said as they walked toward his Honda.

"I'm sure... and more conspicuous as well."

"Oh, right... blend. Okay, but I wanted to offer." They paused at the passenger door, where he opened the car's door for her. "Such a gentleman."

"There are a still a few of us," he replied as he shut her door behind her.

She smiled as he opened the trunk and placed her case inside. It was kind of nice having a man open the door for her. It seemed like fewer and fewer me n did. She heard the trunk thump shut before he opened the driver's door and slid into his seat.

"Very few," she muttered under her breath.

"What's that?" he asked as he started his car and then went to work punching up his next stop, Rocky Mount, North Carolina, on the GPS.

"Nothing."

Drive to the highlighted route, then the route guidance will start... the car said. Fastening his seatbelt, he placed the car in reverse and backed out of the drive.

For the next 21/2 hours, they drove south on interstate 95. To pass the time, they talked about their past and families. Hazen explained how the older her parents got, the more sexually free they became, and he found her embarrassment over her family much funnier than she did.

Josh spoke about his own family, about growing up comfortably middle class, and how his father and mother owned a plumbing business in Petersburg. His dad ran calls while his mother scheduled jobs for him and the other two crews that worked for them, made sure the trucks were maintained and stocked with commonly used fittings and supplies, and managed the company's books.

"I'd give a lot, a whole lot, to have a family like yours," she said when he seemed to be finished.

"What? Boring?"

"Not boring... normal."

"Boring," he repeated.

"Okay, fine, boring if you want to call it that, but boring sounds wonderful. I can't bring anyone over because I never know what Mom, or Ivy, will say or do. Look what happened when you were there."

"I'll admit that's the first time anyone has invited me to an... orgy... or whatever you call it," he said with a grin as he glanced at his passenger.