Finder's Fee (3 page)

“There was no UPS sticker on the third package.”

“I don't understand. What's wrong?”

Judith fought off a frown. “You did nothing wrong. I'm just curious.”

Terri looked around the room but didn't say what Judith knew was on her mind. Meeting in the restroom was an unusual place to ask questions about a package.

“So you didn't see the UPS guy?” Judith asked.

“No. Like I said, I found all three packages on my desk when I got in.”

If the package had gone through the UPS system, then it should bear the company's familiar sticker. Someone had either slipped the package into the UPS delivery or deposited the envelope on Terri's desk before she arrived for work.

“Was your office locked when you arrived this morning?”

“Of course … but …” Judith could see Terri's mind trying to put the pieces together. “How did the delivery guy get into my office?”

“Could he have left it last night while you were out on an errand?”

“I would have noticed. I stayed late and only left my desk once to use the restroom, but there were no packages when I got back.”

Judith's mind raced with questions that had no ready answers. One thing she grew certain of — she was not dealing with a prankster.

After returning to her office, Judith waited as the minutes dripped by. At 10:45, she left her office for Hutch's.

The waitress, a slightly older, slightly larger, slightly surly woman with bright red hair took a position near the table. “Welcome to Hutch's, is this your first time with us?” She asked the question like she had asked it a hundred times a day, which she probably had.

“Yes. This is my first time. I'd like a bowl of chili.”

“You look familiar to me. Are you sure this is your first time here?”

“I look familiar to many people. I have one of those faces.”

“No, that's not it. Haven't I seen you on television?”

Of course she had, but Judith didn't want one of those “aren't you somebody famous” moments. “Water. I'd also like a glass of water with lemon, no ice.”

The waitress studied her for a moment, looked down at the extra menu then shrugged. “Anything else?”

“No.”

“Cheese and onions on the chili?”

“Um, no.”

The waitress left and Judith resumed her gaze out the window. A tapping sound got her attention and she realized the noise came from her own fingers as they drummed the table-top. She folded her hands in her lap.

The waitress returned with a large, steaming bowl of dark chili and set it on the table along with a glass of water. The bowl rested on a saucer and two packages of crackers were wedged along the rim.

“Anything else?”

Judith told the waitress no. Alone again, she stared at the bowl, picked up the spoon but couldn't bring herself to eat. She pushed the concoction around as if waiting for it to cool. There had been nothing in the strange message that said she had to eat the chili.

“You must be the one.”

She jumped at the sound of the voice. Standing next to the table was a thin, handsome man in blue jeans and a black T-shirt. His blond-brown hair was parted along the side and
reached the tops of his ears. His eyes were blue and a day's growth of stubble covered his cheeks, jaw, and chin. He didn't smile.

“The one what?” Judith knew the answer but wanted to be sure the man beside her was the contact she had been ordered to wait for.

“You're the only woman eating chili.” He slipped into the booth.

“It's not by choice.” Her words were hard and icy.

Before the man could speak again the waitress appeared. “May I get you something to drink?”

“No,” the man said. “Nothing to eat either.”

“Okay, if you say so.” The waitress paused and looked at Judith again. “Wait. I got it. You're that Judy Finder person. You used to have a television show or something.”

“Judith Find and I still do.”

“See, I
did
know you.”

“You're very perceptive.” Judith set the spoon down.

“Hey, I don't suppose you have a picture or something. The owner likes to put up pictures of famous people who eat here.”

“Not with me. When I get back to the office, I'll make sure one is sent.”

That pleased the woman and, to Judith's relief, she left.

As soon as the server moved out of earshot, Judith leaned forward and said in a harsh whisper, “I don't know what you're trying to pull, mister, but I'm not going to put up with it. If you think you can extort — ”

“Whoa.” He held up his hands. “You got the wrong guy. I'm the victim here.”

“You're the victim? Not likely.”

“I'm not the bad guy. I got a call and was told to meet a woman here. The only information was that you'd be eating a bowl of chili. Although I don't know why. That stuff looks awful.”

“You got a call?”

He nodded. “On a cell phone, and not my cell phone, I might add.”

“Let me guess. Somehow you came into the possession of a strange cell phone. It rang. You answered and a strange voice started telling you what to do.”

“I guess we have something in common. The phone was in a padded envelope.”

“Was it delivered to your office?”

“I don't have an office. I work from my home. The package was on my doorstep. I found it when I left to grab coffee this morning. If I hadn't been going out, I might not have seen it for hours.”

“You go out every morning?”

“Well, yeah. I suppose I do. You're saying the caller knew that?”

“Most likely he did.”

“How do you know it's a he?”

“You couldn't tell by the voice? It was definitely a man's voice.”

“Michael – 16.”

“Excuse me?”

“First things first. It's awkward to carry on a conversation without names.” He smiled and Judith sensed his confidence. It made her uneasy. “My name is Luke Becker and you are?”

Judith always felt a little offended when others didn't recognize her. She had been on television for years and her face
had appeared in magazine ads, articles, and news reports. Sometimes it took folks a while to put name to face but most at least showed some recognition.

“Judith Find. Just like I told the waitress.”

“I wasn't listening to her. Judith Find,” he repeated. “Sounds familiar.”

“I'm CEO of Find, Inc.”

“The home decorating business? Now I know why your name is familiar. I almost bought stock in your company.”

“Almost? ”

“That's what I do now. I play the stock market.”

She started to ask why he didn't invest but thought better of it. It didn't matter in this context.

“You were saying something about the voice. You said Michael – 16.” She pushed the chili away.

“It's a synthetic voice created by AT&T. Several companies make them. It's a voice used with TTS software — ”

“TTS?”

“Text-to-speech. It's software that reads computer documents. Type a letter, highlight the text, click on a button, and your computer reads it to you. It's great if you have poor eyesight or if you just prefer to consume documents audibly.”

“I figured I was talking to a machine. When interrupted it started over.”

“I got the same thing. I've heard the voice many times. I have it on my computer. It's easy to get off the Internet.”

“So are you saying someone had their computer read a message to us?”

“Basically. I noticed that it responded to certain voice commands. That's not unusual. Certain businesses like banks use the same procedure. You call the bank and speak your
account number. The computer recognizes the numbers and takes you to the next step.”

“What did the voice tell you to do?”

“To come to this place and find a woman eating a bowl of chili.”

“And?”

He looked to the street, breaking eye contact. “There was a threat.”

“To expose a secret you have?”

“How'd you know … ? Oh, you got the same thing.”

Judith gave a nod. Since she didn't want to talk about her secret, she didn't ask about his. “There was another part to the message.”

“He will die?” Luke returned her gaze.

“That's it. But
who
will die?” She lowered her voice.

“I have no idea.”

She started to ask another question when a teenage boy in baggy pants, a black shirt with some logo she didn't recognize, and a baseball cap turned sideways on his head approached. He carried a package.

“Hey, lady. Your name Find?”

“Yes.”

“This is for you.” He held out the package.

“Where did you get this?” Judith asked.

He didn't answer.

Luke raised a hand then reached for his wallet. He pulled out a twenty and placed it on the table. “The lady asked you a question.”

The youth shrugged. “Some guy came up to me in the mall and offered me fifty bucks to bring that to you.”

“What did he look like?” Luke pressed.

“He was about my age. He said some guy gave him fifty to get someone like me to make the delivery.”

Judith knew their tormentor could have done the same thing several times, creating a chain of innocent messengers. It would be impossible to trace the trail. Luke must have come to the same conclusion because he handed the twenty to the kid, who immediately left.

Judith picked up the package. It had her name on it as well as Luke's.

She ripped it open and looked inside.

W
ell, what's in it?” Luke's eyes were glued to the envelope in Judith's hands.

Judith tried to ignore the heated battle between fear and anger raging inside her. She glanced in and saw a lone piece of white paper. She removed it and laid it on the table.

“It's a map,” Judith said. Straight lines formed white streets that contrasted with gray areas. In the center of the map was a green square with a name printed across it.

“Yeah, I can see that.” Luke pulled it close and studied it. “Golden Oak Park on the corner of Sixth and Golden Oak Road. Ever been there?”

Judith reached across the table and took the paper. “No, but the map makes it clear how to get there. It isn't far. Five or
ten minutes maybe.” There was a note at the bottom:
Golden Oak Park. 11:25. Visitor's side.

“The first part is clear enough, but I don't understand ‘visitor's side.' ”

“The park must have a baseball field. If so, ‘visitor's side' might refer to the visiting team's dugout. It's probably nothing more than a simple bench in a public park.” Luke looked at his watch. “We don't have much time.”

“Maybe we shouldn't go. Meeting in a public place like a restaurant is bad enough. Going to a place with fewer people might be dangerous.”

“How do you know there will be fewer people at the park?”

Judith frowned. “It's the middle of a work day which means it's also the middle of a school day. Maybe there will be a few moms with toddlers, but they won't be much help if things go bad.”

“I'm going.” Luke stood.

“That must be some secret you have.” Judith pulled a ten-dollar bill from her purse and dropped it on the table next to the uneaten chili.

The phone in her handbag sounded and Judith jumped. Several patrons looked her way, then, immune to the ringing of ever-present cell phones, returned their attention to their food. Judith snatched the phone from her purse and glanced at the display. She scowled.

“It's not …”

“No, it's not.” With the push of a button, Judith silenced the phone and replaced it in her handbag. She looked at Luke. “My stepson.”

“You don't want to talk to him?”

“Not lately, I don't. Let him talk to the message manager.” She led the way through the eatery.

Once outside she stepped to her vehicle.

“Wait a sec.” Luke moved to her side. “Let's take my car.”

“Why?”

“Because I want us to be able to talk freely.”

“We can't talk in my car?”

Luke looked at the Lexus. “It's not about the car … Look. Earlier you asked if the cell phone I received came to my office.”

“Right; and you said you didn't have an office and were a day trader.”

“Not a day trader … Never mind that. The package was in your office, right? Not outside?”

“Correct.”

“Someone had to arrange for that. Did he seem to know more about your office than you would expect?”

Judith thought of the fireplace. “Yes. I even wondered if there were cameras or listening devices.”

“For now, we had better assume that there are. Where do you park at work?”

“At the front of the building.”

“Is your spot marked?”

Judith felt a touch of embarrassment. “Yes. You're thinking someone could have done something to my car.” She looked at her vehicle.

“I don't know, but anyone can walk into the parking lot, right?”

“I suppose.”

“I keep my car locked in my garage. It's less likely that someone could tamper with it.”

“But not impossible.”

“No, not impossible. But they would have to be good — CIA, NSA good, if you know what I mean.”

“But you said you went out most mornings.”

“I go to a Starbucks. I park where I can see my car and anyone who approaches it. Is there someone you can call to pick up the car?”

“My assistant. I'll leave a key with the hostess.”

“That's a good idea.”

Judith studied the man named Luke Becker again. She didn't believe much in intuition, but she had sensed no danger from him. Still, he was a stranger. To trust or not to trust? “Okay. Where did you park?”