other cars, and I fit right in!” Walter was way ahead of me.
He continued with his surveillance abilities: “Plus, they all have cell phones, and those are easy to listen in on. Want to hear some of their conversations? I recorded a few,” and he placed a little digital recording device on the table.
“You listened in to their home?” I asked. “Don’t you think that’s…” I trailed off. Yes, it was extreme, but all this information was good.
“Crazy? You think I’m crazy? Is that what you were going to say?” Walter said, getting defensive.
“No,” I tried to reassure him. “I was going to use the word ‘extreme’, as in ‘wiretapping.’ But I’m not the specialist. You are.”
“Darn right I am,” he said, somewhat disappointed in me. “I was hoping for a little gratitude.”
“Yes, you’re right, Walter. You’ve worked hard getting all of this info. I’m grateful. You’ve done a good job, one that nobody else could do.”
“And it’s not wiretapping when they use cell phones,” said Walter, satisfied with himself.
Having the last word seemed to mollify Walter, but he was still a bit angry. He didn’t like anyone challenging his abilities. He was the best at what he did, gathering information in ways nobody else could, in ways that might have been perhaps a little questionable. But I could turn a blind eye to some of his methods if the information proved good.
We drank a little more, then Walter took me back home, or close to home. He didn’t drop me off in front of my house, but did let me off about a hundred yards away. Not a far walk, for which I was grateful. I was getting tired, and although I appreciated the exercise, I still had to work the next day.
Meeting with Helen
A few evenings later I sat at the computer to catch up reading my e-mails. I saw a new contact and assumed it was Helen Ceraldi-Burke; I was right. She wrote me with a request to join her for another dinner to discuss the current situation, and left her cell phone number at the bottom of the screen. I answered back and wrote, “Yes,” but that we’d meet at an Italian restaurant one town over. I called her cell phone, but there was no answer, so I left a text message for her to call me, and then I waited. I sat there at the computer and counted the minutes; after 11 minutes and roughly 45 seconds, she finally called, and we made arrangements to meet.
After dark, we both arrived at the restaurant close to the same time; it was hard to miss her bright red convertible sports car. We met in the parking lot and walked into the restaurant and were guided to a table, where we got comfortable and placed our orders.
After some minor chit-chat, she revealed that she had come up with some more information about Susan Lovely, based on what Mindy had turned up. Mindy didn’t accompany Helen on this outing; I supposed she was depressed from our last meeting.
“What do you have to tell me?” I asked.
“I have more information on Miss Lovely. I’ve found that her finances are mostly tied to her family Chocolate factory, the worldwide confectionery company based here in Lovely. Her grandfather, Cornelius Lovely, created the specialized chocolate line and built that factory from the ground up; she, however, doesn’t work there. When the company went public, Cornelius stayed on as the CEO and was the major stockholder. He was filthy rich at the time of his death, which, of course, was just a few weeks ago. He had two children who had no interest in working for the company, so basically he payrolled them until they were old enough to work for themselves elsewhere, then cut their paychecks substantially. They never went without, of course, because he kept tabs on both of his children, and they always seemed to be fairly well off. He did demand that they work, in some capacity, if he was to help them in the financial realm.”
“Sounds as though I would like the old man,” I said, approvingly. “Please continue.”
“Susan Lovely was his only grandchild, and she also worked, but as a model, being very successful in her field. She hasn’t worked in the past few years, probably because she really didn’t have to, and also her grandfather was ill, and it appears that she hoped to cash in from being around him, or else, his estate.”
We looked at each