The Last Day by John Ramsey Miller Read Free Book Online Page B

hour Ward took care of necessary business. He was just about to walk to the warehouse to go over the incoming inventory, and to the studio to check the progress of designs on new products, when Leslie appeared at the open door, her long black hair tucked neatly behind her ears.
    “Gene Duncan's secretary called to remind you that you're supposed to meet him for lunch at eleven- thirty at the Speedway Club. I don't have it on your planner.”
    “Today?” Ward asked. He didn't remember making the appointment. Christ. “Tell him I'll see him there.”
    As she turned to leave, Ward remembered something. “Leslie, are you still dating that private detective?”
    “Yes,” she said. “Todd Hartman.”
    “Is he good?”
    Her cheeks flushed.
    “Sorry, I meant is he a good detective?”
    She giggled. “He doesn't brag, but his friends all say he's the best around. He has like two full-time investigators, a secretary, and lots of freelancers he uses. He does a lot of work for lawyers.”
    “Does he work for individuals?”
    “Yes. Sometimes.”
    “And you'd recommend him. Even if you weren't dating?”
    “My friend Erica hired Todd to check out a guy she was dating. The guy had just moved to town and he never let her pay for anything. He drove a Mercedes, dressed expensively, wore an expensive watch, was attentive, knew wines, took her to expensive restaurants, was handsome, always said and did the right things. She works, even though she has a large inheritance her aunt left her. When he found that out, he mentioned he was getting a thirty to forty percentreturn on some Chinese farm machinery deal a friend of his got him into. She never committed to it, but said she'd think it over. He never tried to push her. One day he left out a check where she'd see it, and it was for two hundred thousand dollars. He said it was a quarterly return on the Chinese deal, which he had a million dollars invested in. He said in four years he'd gotten back his million and everything from there out was profits. She wanted to make that kind of money and he said he'd ask if there was any room for another investor, but he doubted it.
    “He told her a week later that he'd convinced his buddies to let her buy in. That wasn't a red flag for her. The red flag was from her lawyer, who wondered why he wasn't involved or married already, and told her that any deal that looked too good to be true was generally a scam. The lawyer hired Todd, and Todd found out that Mr. Perfect was using a false name. He discovered the lover's real identity by collecting his fingerprints. Mr. Wonderful was a con artist, with a wife. The Mercedes was leased and his rap sheet was two feet long. Todd set up a sting using Erica and a dummy bank check for half a million dollars and the cops arrested the guy.Erica thought I'd like Todd so she set us up on a blind date. I'd recommend him.”
    “Well, I've got a little problem. You know the girl I said might call about the die- cast?”
    “She hasn't yet.”
    Ward told her about the girl and the missing prototype. Leslie listened without interrupting, until Ward said, “Can you give me his phone number and maybe even tell him I'm a nice guy before I call him?”
    “Of course.” She scribbled down a phone number. “I know he'll be happy to help you out. I've told him about you. I mean what a nice guy you are.”
    Ward hoped Hartman could find the girl and get the model back, because he doubted the police would spend the investigative energy that would be necessary to locate a phantom girl with no contact information to retrieve what amounted to a toy but he figured a private detective would at least make an effort for a fee.
    “Sure thing,” Leslie said. “I'm meeting him for lunch.”
    “That would be great. And thanks.”

THIRTEEN
    Ward had lunch at the Speedway Club two or three times a week because it was convenient and afforded him an opportunity to keep in touch with clients. Except for the occasional race-