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Authors: Thomas DePrima

BOOK: A World Without Secrets
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"Call no matter where he is."

"Not unless the price remains at twenty-five hundred."

"It costs more if I have to send people out of state to get him."

"Forty-seven thousand, five hundred more?"

"Call and I'll tell you what I'll pay when I know where he is."

* * *

I could have called an hour later but I waited for two days. I was just about to call Harris when he called me.

"I thought you could find anybody?"

"I can."

"But you haven't found Sutton."

"I located him two days ago. He's out of state though."

"I told you to call no matter where he is."

"You also said you wouldn't pay the twenty-five hundred if he was out of state."

"I'll give you two grand."

"I'm hanging up now Mr. Harris. Call me if you decide to pay the whole twenty-five hundred. It won't cost you very much to retrieve him."

"What's that mean? Is he close? Connecticut?"

"Good-bye, Mr. Harris."

"Wait. Wait a minute, goddammit."

"I'm listening."

"Okay, I'll pay you twenty-two fifty."

"You're getting closer to learning where your guy is, but you're not there yet."

I could hear Harris muttering to himself. Finally, "Okay, twenty-five hundred. But he'd better be close."

"Have your boys ready to roll at nine tomorrow morning. Sutton's in Newark. Not much further from your office than Brooklyn."

"Newark? Why didn't you call? That's not outta state."

"Last I heard, Newark was in Jersey."

"It's just across the Hudson, for christssake. You didn't have to hold me up. I would have paid the twenty-five hundred if I'd known he was in Newark."

"Then you've got nothing to gripe about."

"How do you know he'll be there tomorrow morning?"

"He works all night peddling drugs on the streets. If he isn't arrested tonight, he'll be sacked out and dead to the world by nine a.m. Your guys should be ready to move in by ten. That'll give him time to really fall into a deep sleep. If they play it right, they'll have him cuffed before he's even awake. I'll fax your pickup team a layout of the house."

"A layout of the house? Where'd you get that?"

"It's just a crude diagram, not architectural plans."

"Okay, I'll call Vinny. Four men be enough?"

"If they're the same guys as last time— more than adequate."

"Good. You'll spot for them like you did in Brooklyn? They said you saved their asses."

"I'll be looking on and giving help."

"Good. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

* * *

When Vinny called from Newark the following morning, I gave him the address. I had already confirmed that Sutton was sacked out in the house, and I had marked the layout to show the room where Sutton slept. I sent the image to Vinny's smartphone and told him to call again when they were ready to move in.

I was enjoying my fourth cup of coffee when my cell phone rang.

"We're ready to move in, Colt."

"Okay, Vinny. He's sleeping soundly."

"Right. We're moving."

I watched the sleeping form as the enforcement agents moved in. They were in the bedroom before Sutton was alert enough to understand they were there. He was reaching for a pistol when the first man jumped on his prone form. I had constantly reassured them that Sutton posed no threat until they were in the bedroom and had told them where he kept his gun. After they had Sutton in the van, I signed off and put the gizmo away.

* * *

Harris had the money waiting for me when I arrived the next morning and didn't play any games this time. He had figured out that I wouldn't stand for it, and he wanted me willing to find more skips for him. He couldn't argue with the success he'd seen and the super low prices he had paid.

"Anybody else right now?" I asked.

"Not right now. I'll give you a call when I do."

"Right. You know how to get in touch. See you."

"If you need something to keep busy with, Triple A Bail Bonds could use you to find one of their skips. I spoke with Marsh Adams last night. I owed him a favor so I told him I'd pass the message on to you. I gave you quite a buildup."

"Thanks. I'll stop over before I head home. Pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Harris."

Harris scowled. "You mean it's a pleasure taking my money."

I smiled. "That too."

I smiled and waved to the three people in the outer office as I left, and they waved back, indicating a sort of acceptance as one of the group now.

It was a two-block walk to the other bail bondsman's office. As soon as Marsh Adams learned I was there, he came out of his office and pumped my hand and arm like I was delivering the Publisher's Clearing House Sweepstakes Grand Prize.

"Thanks for coming by, James. I'm in a bad way. I have just a day and a half to find my skip or I forfeit a hundred large. Harris says you're the best he's ever seen."

"I'll help you if I can. Harris told you I only locate, right?"

"He said you spot for the guys while they move in and alert them to possible danger."

"Yes, but I don't assist in the actual recovery beyond support information."

"That's acceptable. Harris said your fee is five thousand."

"My fee varies with the skip and the urgency. For your man, who has to be located within twenty-four hours if your people are to have enough time to retrieve him, my fee will be ten grand, cash, payable the day after he's picked up."

Adams hesitated for just a couple of seconds. He was probably trying to figure out if he should negotiate, but then agreed. I wrote down all the information and left after telling Mr. Adams to have his people ready to go tomorrow. If the skip was local, they'd pick him up. If he was out of the area, they'd travel to where he was.

It only took me fifteen minutes to track down the skip using the gizmo. I was getting better at finding my way around the courthouse and tagging the skips. It turned out that the wanted man was hiding out in a rooming house on Staten Island. It shouldn't be too difficult to take him down if he was still there the next morning.

* * *

The third pickup went as smoothly as the last one. The man didn't offer much resistance after he found four guns aimed his way. When he was cuffed and locked in the van, I signed off and went to buy a newspaper.

If Adams paid me, I'd still have a sizable nest egg for my three recoveries after setting aside a chunk for taxes. My immediate financial troubles would be over. I could relax and work on my book, returning to track people down whenever my funds ran low again. I wasn't placing myself in danger and hadn't had to show anyone how I located the skips. Life was good again.

* * *

I picked up my payment for finding the third skip the following morning. Adams had the money ready and didn't try to short me.

"That was fast work, James. Harris was right about how good you are. How'd you find my guy so quickly? I've had people looking for him since he failed to appear for the hearing."

"No offense, Mr. Adams, but if I told you how I do it, you wouldn't need
me
anymore."

Adams smiled. "Okay, James. Fair enough. I hope I can call upon you again?"

"Sure, Mr. Adams. You have my number. Call me whenever you have a skip worth five grand or more."

"I'll do that."

* * *

I received a letter from the city the next day, informing me that my car was at an impound lot and asking if I wished to reclaim it. I sent the letter back telling them to junk it since the damage was so extensive that repairs weren't justified.

With my newfound wealth, I felt comfortable spreading a little around at Murphy's. For the first time in more than two months, I ordered dinner out instead of cooking for myself. Their corned beef and cabbage, as always, was delicious. Billy Boyles dropped in after getting off work and we hoisted a few mugs of cold beer together.

"Welcome back, bro."

"Thanks. It's nice to have a few bucks in my pocket again."

"Nothing like it. Whatcha doing for pocket change?"

"Not much. I just arranged a few meetings between the right people."

"You arranged meetings? You mean like a sales broker?"

"Uh, yeah, sort of. Anyway, I've made enough so that I can continue writing for a few more months."

"I'll drink to that. Here's to your first bestseller." After a large gulp, he added, "Got enough to ask Kathy out now?"

"Maybe," I said, "as long as I don't go wild. No midnight flights to Monte Carlo or anything like that."

"Then just start with lunch downtown and see where it takes you. She leaves the museum about noon every day."

"How do you know that?"

"She mentioned it once. We were talking about the restaurants near the museum and if the food and service is good."

"You playing matchmaker, Billy?"

Billy grinned. "Well— maybe a little. I think you guys would be great for each other. You're both the brainy sort, but you're also real people— not snooty like. And you could do a lot worse."

"Okay, Cupid, I'll invite her to lunch this week."

"Good. Now tell me about this brokerage business."

I stared down at my beer for a few seconds. I was dying to tell somebody, and Billy was my best friend, but I didn't want to put him into the possible danger I feared might befall me at any time. "Ah, it's nothing fancy," I said nonchalantly, "but it's complicated. It'll be easier to show you in a few weeks after I've had a chance to work it a bit more. I'll put together some charts so I can explain it easier and go over the whole thing with you then. Okay?"

"Sure, bud. If it's complicated I'll need a clear head anyway. Ready for another brewski?"

 

 

 

Chapter Five

Kathy Marin was just coming out of the museum as I was about to enter. My pulse began to quicken as soon as I saw her. She was as gorgeous as ever. I'd never seen her without makeup, but I believed she was just as beautiful without it. The tailored business suit she was wearing today left little to the imagination, and I could tell she took great pains to always appear her best. We both stopped and looked at one another.

"Hi, Kathy."

"Colt. How have you been?"

"Getting by. How about you?"

"About the same." After a few seconds of awkward silence she added, "I tried to contact you after the building explosion but I couldn't get through. I was worried for you, but I learned later that day that you weren't injured. Billy Boyles said your place is still livable."

"He told me he'd spoken with you."

"So what brings you down here?"

"You."

"Me?"

"I thought I'd drop in and say hi— maybe invite you to lunch or something."

"Then you're just in time because that's where I was going. Chinese okay?"

"Great."

"Good. I've had a strange craving for scallops and broccoli all morning. There's a great little place about two blocks away."

"Lead the way."

We made small talk to catch up on events as we walked to the Chinese restaurant. We'd met at the wedding of a mutual friend the previous year and an instant friendship had formed. Although both of us were attending the wedding with other people, we had been seated next to one another at the reception and we spent the whole meal talking like old friends, much to the chagrin of our dates. Kathy had been involved until a few months previous, and I'd been living a solitary existence because of my dwindling bank account.

After the waitress took our order and brought us some tea, Kathy said, "I'm glad you dropped by. I hate eating alone, but all the girls at the museum had things to do today."

"I'm glad I dropped by also. I've wanted to see you again."

"I'm in the book."

"I know. It's just that I've been so— busy with my writing. I haven't gone out in months."

"Any luck yet?"

"Not yet. I still have hope though."

"You should. You have a talent for it."

"You've seen my stuff?" I asked incredulously.

"Billy gave me the address of the website where you post most of your stories and told me your pen names. I've read everything that's there, and I loved them all. They're exciting, clever, and heartwarming. I especially loved
The Mystical Magicians of Loki-Tau
."

"Thanks. That's one of my personal favorites, although
All Ships Return to Base
has been the most popular with my sci-fi fans."

"I've read the comments posted by readers. They really love your stuff. You deserve to be published."

"Those comments and the constant fan letters provided the motivation to become a professional writer. I can't think of anything I'd rather do with the rest of my life. I get so much fulfillment from writing stories that bring pleasure and enjoyment to my readers. Unfortunately, all the publishers I've contacted send me form letters telling me my stuff isn't marketable."

"That's ridiculous. Your stories are as good as anything I've ever purchased and better than a lot of the stuff being put out these days."

"I think so, but I'm prejudiced."

"Me too," Kathy said, then smiled softly.

I couldn't help but chuckle. "Too bad you're not in the publishing business. I could use a fan on the inside to beat a drum for me."

"I don't know anyone in the publishing business, but I'll see if any of the girls at work do."

"Thanks, Kathy. Ah, here's our food." As the waitress placed the dishes on the table, I added, "Smells delicious."

Near poverty had kept me from enjoying a good Chinese dinner during the past few months, and I enjoyed the meal immensely. More importantly, I relished the company of an intelligent and articulate friend. As we opened our fortune cookies after the dishes had been cleared away, I said, "This has been great. I'm glad we got together."

"Me too. I've been really hoping you'd call."

"I would have, but, uh..."

"But money has been tight?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Having money for a date isn't that important," she said.

"Uh, you don't understand. When a guy doesn't have enough money to show a special lady a good time, he feels sort of— impotent."

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