Project Northwest (19 page)

“I doubt it. It’s a crazy system, right,
Cricket?” Wright felt the cherry on the cigar was just right, took
a long drag and swallowed his scotch in one gulp.

“Yes sir, but we’re the crazies who built it,
or went along with it being built. I mean, we have quasi-government
agencies that pick when they’re a government agency and when
they’re a private entity, depending on the noose they’re trying to
wiggle out of. It’s all about the money. It’s all about power.”

“How long have we known each other,
Cricket?”

“About seven years, Major.”

“Don’t insult me with that title. Seven
years, so you know this isn’t about money for me.”

“I know, sir, but it’s a lot of money.”

“Yes, it is. Yes, it is,” Mr. Wright
conceded.

He stood and patted Cricket on the shoulder.
“Don’t get drunk on the scotch, let’s get back to work. I have a
meeting with Mr. DuVall tonight.”

Chapter
Fifteen

~ Mark in Deep ~

Mark arrived at the
parking lot of the Embassy Suites at 5:10 P.M. The radio station
announced it was 44 degrees and overcast, and then moved to the
Orioles and Mariners score. The Orioles were being tormented by a
five-run deficit. He made a pass around the entire building,
looking for any Tahoes that matched James’s description and didn’t
find any.

He then focused his attention on any black
vehicle, SUV type, and recorded all the tag numbers into a
notebook, along with the parking spot and notes about how the
vehicle was parked.

He used to be able to just read the odometer,
but now, with most vehicles having a digital gauge system, that
trick no longer worked. He had to mark the tires with chalk. It was
simple really, if the chalk line moved, then so had the vehicle.
There were only five vehicles that matched what he would consider a
professional outfit vehicle.

He strolled into the lobby and noticed a
young man behind the check-in counter. His charm didn’t work well
on men, so he drove across the street, checked into a nearby hotel
and called the Embassy Suites number every ten minutes after the
hour until he heard a female voice answer.

“Embassy Suites, this is Suzie, how can I
help you?”

“Sorry, I have the wrong number.” Mark hung
up the room phone, put on his coat, and drove back to the Embassy
Suites parking lot and made another round. Only three of the five
vehicles had moved. Past experience told him a room full of guys
would have to eat and he crossed out the two tags that hadn’t
moved. He also crossed out the Ford Escape, due to political
stickers on the bumper.

He would now focus on getting information on
the two that moved and found the VIN of each. He needed to talk to
Suzie to see who registered room 122 last Friday.

He entered the lobby and there stood Suzie
behind the counter. She was just as he expected, young and cute.
His favorite.

“Good evening, are you checking in?”

“Not yet, I’m waiting on a business partner,”
he said, as he loitered near the front desk counter scouring it for
clues about her.

He noticed she was reading
Intensity
by Dean Koontz. He hadn’t read it, but was familiar with the
author’s work. Suzie liked a little suspense and fear—that was her
keystone and a possible way in. Her coffee cup was half-empty and
he noted the two discarded brown sugar packs in the trash can.

“Ever been to Napa Valley?” Mark blindly
asked her.

“No, I haven’t, why do you ask?”

“Oh, I see you’re reading Koontz, a lot of
his settings are in the Napa Valley area, right?”

“Yes, he usually places his stories there.
Have you read this one?” she asked, holding up the book, starting
to open up and engage him.

“Intensity.
No I haven’t. Is it
good?”

“Oh, yeah, one chapter kept me awake all
night. I was afraid to put my feet on the floor. If I didn’t have
to pee, I’d probably still be in bed.”

Mark laughed. “Wow, does sound good, you have
a nice sense of humor. That was funny. Well I’m sure you have work
to do, so I’ll just wait in the lobby. Mind if I help myself to a
cup of coffee?”

“Not at all, help yourself.”

“Would you like a fresh cup? You take two
natural sugars right?”

“Sure, how did you know I took two
sugars?”

“Anyone as sweet as you takes two sugars,” he
called back as he prepared the coffee. “Just kidding, I saw the
open packets in your trash can and put two and two together.”

She didn’t respond and this was always the
fulcrum point in his game. Was it about to tilt toward bad or good?
Did she have a boyfriend and find the flirtation insulting? Or did
she not have one and found the flirtation enjoyable?

“Here you go. Two sugars and a stirring
straw.”

Mark stayed at the counter, almost to the
point where it had become uncomfortable and was about to turn and
sit in the lobby when she reengaged him. “You’ve been to Napa
Valley?” she asked.

Mark’s face lit up with a big toothy smile.
“Yes, I’m from Sacramento, so it’s a short trip. Did you know Napa
is a Native American word? It means grizzly bear. I know you
haven’t been, but you should definitely make the trip, you’ll enjoy
it. My business partner and I have a little land there where we
raise white grapes. Do you like red or white wine?”

Twenty minutes later, with a promise to show
her around if she ever wanted to get away for a weekend, he was
in.

She found the record in the database and
viewed it on the computer. “Rooms one-twenty through
one-twenty-three are all registered to a company called PNW, Inc.
Would you like me to print it?”

“No, I was just curious. I thought it was
them, they are competitors.”

“They’re in the wine business, too?”

“Yes. Why? Did they say something else?”

“No, it’s just they were, you know, very
impersonal, not like you at all. And dressed like government
agents,” she said with suspicion as she recalled the day Mr. Wright
checked in.

“I bet. Mr. Wright is a bit of a hard ass
when he’s on the road. That whole team is weird and the shame of it
is that they are doing better than we are in sales. Were they rude
to you?”

“No, just weird, like you said, and I did
hear one of them call the other Mr. Wright. They kept going out the
side door causing exit alarms.”

“Yeah, that is weird, see what I mean?” His
cell phone rang. It was Aaron with perfect timing.

Mark excused himself and took the call.
“Three, five, seven, right. That’s the key, right?” Aaron said as
soon as Mark answered the phone.

“Yes, that’s it. Well, as promised we’ll be
going to San Fran, good job.”

“I knew I would get it. Okay, I’ll get the
dates and set everything up.”

“Sure, we’ll make a trip of it. I will call
you later.”

“Okay, mom wants you to call as soon as you
get to wherever it is you’re going.”

“Will do. Give me about ten minutes, bye.”
Mark hung up the phone. “Well, Suzie, you’re good luck. That was my
business partner and he landed a contract with a company in San
Fran. It was a pleasure talking to you and don’t forget, look me
up.”

“Nice talking to you too, Mark,” she said as
she watched him walk out the door.

Back in his Explorer, Mark was admitting to
himself that he would have to find a new line of work. Falling in
love with Tina and Aaron meant his ability to charm was going to
hurt the people he needed information from, his marks. Before Tina,
he would have met Kara and Suzie and showed them a great time and
no one would’ve been hurt. Now he felt bad.
Odd,
he thought,
or maybe he was maturing, he didn’t mind getting into scuffles with
the occasional jealous boyfriend and suffering the lumps and
bruises, but now he was hurting the girls. He had to call Kara and
cancel and knew he’d never see Suzie again, but it didn’t make it
right to play with her emotions.

Back in his hotel room, he opened the laptop,
completed a carfax search on the internet, using the VIN numbers
he’d collected earlier, and got a hit. One vehicle, a GMC Terrain,
showed it was registered in White Plains, New York, late last year
and had a police report, case # 04–0883.

In his business, Mark had access to several
people search databases and a powerful business search database. A
search for Mr. Wright and White Plains showed two recent hits
related to an address on Manhattan Ave. The business database
showed only one business at the address, ESP Sphere, William P.
Wright, but the trail quickly went cold.
That’s our man,
Mark thought.

Mark selected Tina on his phone and pressed
call. “Hey, baby, have another favor to ask.”

“I was hoping you’d call. Aaron says you two
are going to some kind of expo?”

“Yes, pinky promise. Why? Is it a
problem?”

“No, not really, I guess it’s good you two
are getting close, just a little worrisome, you know.”

“I know, I’ve been thinking about all of it
and I want to have a serious talk when I get back.”

“Okay, what’s the favor?”

“Got a pen?”

“Yep.”

“Need you to sweet talk one of your
investigator buddies into getting some information on a William P.
Wright, White Plains area of New York State. Recent case number
zero four dash zero eight eight three. He’s associated with a
company called ESP Sphere.”

“Sure, I’m still at the office, do you want
me to start now?”

“You’re a peach, you know that? A nice juicy
ripe peach. The faster I’m done with this, the faster I can come
home, so yeah, if you don’t mind.”

“On my way. Will give you a call in a few.
Love you.” She caught herself, but it was too late, the words leapt
from cell tower to cell tower, travelled from Sacramento to Seattle
in an instant and pounded Mark’s eardrum. Mark heard them loud and
clear. ‘Love you’ just suspended itself in the air waiting to be
acknowledged.

...Waiting....

...Waiting....

“Love you, too,” Mark said and he meant every
syllable.

Twenty minutes later, she had the information
and was on the phone with Mark.

“Couldn’t find anything about the company,
very hush, hush, but did find your William Paul Wright, he’s
ex–military, US Air Force, and has only had two run-ins with the
law, but both are sealed. They appear to be traffic tickets,
nothing major. There’s no known address and no aliases.”

“How hard is it to seal traffic tickets?”

“The same as any seal, but the question is
why would anyone go through the effort?”

“Exactly. Any personal info, like social
security number or anything?”

“Not really. We do have his military service
number if that helps.”

“It sure does.”

“If your next favor is to ask me to dig into
a military database, I think you’re S. O. L.”

“It’s okay, I have a contact.”

“You have a contact, a military contact,
who?”

“Bama.”

“Bama. The guy that almost killed you in
college?”

“It was a lucky first hit. I thought I made
that clear. I could’ve taken him, but yeah, same guy. Turns out he
was waiting to be transferred to West Point when we had our little
scuffle. He called me during my senior year and asked that I help
him out with his background check. He was 17 when it happened and
the event was sealed, but the Air Force Office of Special
Investigation would dig deep and since I didn’t press charges, he
asked for this one favor.”

“Wow, small world, huh? Guy almost kills you
and you help him out. One of our investigators, our age, just
arrested the same guy his father arrested some thirty years ago.
Guy was in jail for arson way back then and is now facing the same
charges. So, did the OSI contact you?”

“Yes, and they were tough, tried like hell to
trip me up, but luckily for Bama, the investigator was female.”

“Yes, really lucky for Bama, I’m sure,” she
responded suggesting something more intimate took place. “Do you
want to talk about what was said before? I mean, you said those
three little words that matter most.”

“You said two of them before I did,” he
countered.

“What did I say?”

“Love you.”

“Oh, that. That was nothing, just standard
police talk. We end every convo with love ya,” she said, trying to
deflect.

“Right, sure you do,” he responded denoting
the apparent lie. “Okay, we should talk about it. Give me a call
when you’re home, in bed, and in your pajamas.”

Tina called back about forty-five minutes
later and was eager to get to the important matter. She quickly cut
through the normal chitchat and asked point blank, “Mark, do you
love me?”

“I know that I do,” Mark responded with
surety.

The rest of the conversation was a euphoric
affirmation of future plans, then moved to long held secrets and
finally settled on the emotional feelings shared by new lovers.
This was Mark’s first experience with these types of feelings and
he tried to pin it down and stumbled as most amateurs do. Tina had
a couple of experiences with love and told him it was, ‘a feeling
one gets when the good life is no longer passing you by, but has
stopped to let you on board.’

Mark let her lead the conversation and when
it was his turn, he revealed he wanted to get out of the PI
business. Suggesting he could get back into computers, even though
he knew technology had passed him by, but as he said, “With a
little help from Aaron, I’m sure we could make a solid run at
it.”

Tina finally asked the toughest question. “Do
you love Aaron?”

Mark admitted he did. She was quiet for a
long time, and then she finally spoke, “I think he loves you,
too.”

“Don’t be too sure. Thirteen-year-olds love
girls and food, you’re a close third, and I’m somewhere down the
list below the farmhouse grilled cheese.”