Camino Winds (Camino Island #2)(43)

Elaine was coming around her desk with a smile and handshake as the guard closed the door.

“I feel as though you should frisk me,” Bruce said.

“Bend over,” she snapped and Bruce burst out laughing. She waved to a sofa and said, “Might as well laugh, Cable, you beat us fair and square.”

They took seats around a low table and she began pouring coffee.

“You got the manuscripts back,” he said. “Everybody’s happy.”

“Easy for you to say.”

“It was a brilliant idea, Ms. Shelby.”

“Drop the formal stuff. I’ll be Elaine and you’ll be Bruce, okay?”

“Fine with me.”

“You call it brilliant, in our business we call it a failure, which, I hate to say, is not that unusual. We are dealt the toughest cases and we don’t always win.”

“But you always get paid.”

“Damned right we do. Don’t you just love Mercer?”

“I tried my best. Great girl, wonderful writer.”

“Did you guys make it all the way to bed?”

“Oh, I never kiss and tell, Elaine. That’s very unprofessional.”

“You have a horrible reputation for chasing the young female writers.”

“Why is that horrible? I assure you it’s all consensual. These liberated women are on the road and looking for fun. I just try to accommodate them.”

“We know, we know. That was our plan.”

“Almost brilliant. Was it your idea?”

“We have teams, no one works solo around here. It was a joint effort.”

“Okay. What can you tell me about this outfit?”

“I understand you want to hire us.”

“I’m interested, but I need to know more.”

She took a sip of coffee and recrossed her legs. Bruce refused to notice. “Well, for lack of a better description, we are a security firm.”

“Do you have a name?”

“Not really.”

“So, if I eventually write out a check for payment, it will be ‘pay to the order of…’?”

“Alpha North Solutions.”

“How wonderfully bland.”

“And you came up with ‘Bay Books’?”

“I did. Much sexier.”

“Is it really that important for you to like our name?”

“I guess not.”

“May I proceed? You did inquire.”

“I did. Please. Sorry.”

“Anyway, we provide security for companies and individuals, we investigate crimes for insurance companies and other clients, we subcontract with the federal government to consult on security matters. We operate around the world, with headquarters here.”

“Why here?”

“Why does it matter?”

“It doesn’t, I guess. It’s just that you’re stuck out here in the middle of nowhere with nothing but eight-lane roads running in all directions.”

“It’s convenient. Dulles is right there and we travel a lot. Virtually every employee here is former FBI or CIA, and this area is home.”

“And you?”

“FBI for fifteen years, worked primarily in recovering stolen art.”

“And manuscripts.”

“Among other items. I’ve looked through the materials you sent, interesting reading, and you’re smart to avoid email. I assume the locals down there have not made much progress.”

“Not much at all, I’m afraid.”

“And you realize this will be expensive?”

“Yep. I wouldn’t be here if I were looking for a bargain.”

“Okay, so I suggest that we walk down the hall to visit my colleague Lindsey Wheat, one of our homicide investigators and, until five years ago, one of the FBI’s finest. She was also one of the first female African American agents in the field.”

“Why would she, or you, leave the Bureau?”

“Money and politics. The pay here is about four times that of the Bureau, and most of us are women who got sick of the internal politics and sexism.” She stood and motioned toward the door.

Bruce followed her down the empty hall. Ms. Wheat was at her desk and rose with a big smile when they walked in. Last names were discarded as first names were assumed. She was about fifty and as slender and stylish as Elaine. She walked them over to a similar sitting area and inquired about coffee. All declined.

Bruce had already gone through one round of preliminary chitchat and wished to avoid another. He said, “So, you specialize in old murders?”

Lindsey smiled and said, “Or recent ones. It doesn’t matter. I began on the streets as a homicide detective. Houston, Seattle, five years in Tampa. It’s a thick résumé, if you’d like to take a look.”

“Maybe later.” Bruce had already accepted the fact that these people were eminently qualified. For a second it made him even prouder that he had outfoxed them three years earlier.

Lindsey asked, “Have you talked to the FBI down there? If it’s a contract for hire then it’s likely to be federal.”

“That’s what I’ve been told. But no, I have not talked to the FBI. Not sure how one does that, really. I’m just a simple bookseller who knows little about the law.” He smiled at Elaine, who rolled her eyes.