“Nice to meet you, Mr. Fleet,” I said. “If I hadn’t wanted to come, I wouldn’t be here. What can I do for you?”
“I heard you were to the point. Would you like a drink?”
I looked at my watch to see it was a little past five o’clock. It’s a personal discipline never to drink before five.
“A beer would be fine,” I replied.
Fleet pressed an intercom at his desk and ordered two beers. He turned back to me and leveled an impressive stare. “I need to find somebody. Or rather two somebodies,” he said.
He paused as if wondering exactly how to proceed.
“Anything you say to me is confidential,” I said. “And I only share confidentialities with my staff on a need-to-know basis.”
Fleet looked forlorn. “My daughter Sarah Ann and my son-in-law are missing. And a lot of money.”
I noticed he didn’t refer to his son-in-law by name or as Sarah Ann’s husband.
“How much money?”
“Nearly three million dollars.” He sat down on the couch and took a deep breath.
“How could they get their hands on that much money?”
Fleet looked me right in the eye and began to lay it out.
“Sarah Ann met Ronnie on a cruise—Ronald Fitzgerald Fairchild, of Greenwich, Connecticut. I didn’t like him when I heard the name, but she was in love and they had this whirlwind courtship and ran off and got married. I thought he was a fortune hunter so I had him checked out. Plenty of money in the family and he always seemed to have plenty of money, so I didn’t think it was money he was after. Maybe he loved her, but they just didn’t seem to fit as a couple. Ronnie is a real handsome devil, I have to admit, and glib. Could charm the spots off a leopard. Sarah Ann is attractive enough but not in his league in the looks department. There was just something about him I didn’t trust, but after a year or so the marriage seemed to be working so I offered to bring him into the business and he accepted.” Fleet was rambling a bit and I just let him ramble.
Roy arrived with two beers in large pilsner glasses and set them on the coffee table. Fleet nodded. Roy left without a word.
“They have been married almost five years and Ronnie has done a good job in the business. With his charm and looks, he is a natural-born salesman. I was beginning to think I was wrong about him.”
“Did you ever meet his family?”
“No. Ronnie said they weren’t speaking. According to him, he was the black sheep of the family. I didn’t have much desire to meet some snobs from Greenwich, Connecticut, anyway.”
I smiled inwardly. Fleet was good-ole-boy rich. A son of a bootlegger, he had gone to college, taken the family spoils, and built an empire. Fleet had polished his act, but the rough edges were still there. Hiring Roy Husky certainly fit. He would have little use for the Fairchilds of the world.
“Could anyone else have taken the money?” I asked.
“No way,” Fleet said raising his voice slightly. “Only Sarah and myself had that kind of access.”
“Not Ronnie?”
“No. Him I trusted only so far.”
“When is the last time you saw them?”
“Thursday night. They were going to our condo in Destin, Florida, on Friday morning for a two-week vacation. They never showed up. I haven’t heard anything. No call, nothing.”
Today was Monday. “When did you discover the money missing?” I asked, though I already guessed it was today. That’s why he was panicked.
“This morning. I noticed a large withdrawal from one of our business accounts. I started checking other accounts. Sarah Ann had secretly cashed in stocks and securities and made withdrawals early in the week. Then I got really concerned, so I made a few phone calls and came up with your name.”
“Anything else missing? Items that you would not expect them to take on a vacation?”
“Maybe. It’s hard to tell. I haven’t had the chance to do an inventory.”
“What were they driving?”
“A brand-new white Jeep Grand Cherokee Limited.”
I sat and thought about what he had told me. Joseph Fleet watched and said nothing. He knew I was processing the information. If Ronnie and Sarah Ann had wanted to disappear with the money, what better day to leave than a Friday? The banks were closed for the weekend. By the time Fleet became suspicious, they had a two-day head start.
“If they planned this together—”
“They didn’t,” he cut me off. “I know my girl. Something is wrong and I want you to find her.” His stare was chilling. I didn’t necessarily agree, but I felt compelled to help him.
There was another long silence. All parents think they know their children. The fact is that some parents don’t have a clue. Others know their kids as well as they can, but there are always those dark recesses that parents do not and should not know about. We sat staring in different directions and sipping our beers. I had the feeling this was not going to turn out well.
I didn’t see any reason to stay longer. “I can’t make any promises, but I’ll see what I can do.”
I got up and held out my hand. He rose and took it.
“Thanks,” he said. He looked tired and troubled. “If you have any questions or need anything,” he said, “call Roy.”
Fleet reached into his inside coat pocket, took out an envelope and handed it to me.
Inside was a check for $10,000. “Too much,” I said.
“Doesn’t matter. Find her.”
“I may want to talk to you again.”
“Just call Roy. He’ll set it up.”
Roy appeared from nowhere and stood at the door waiting to escort me out. We walked back out to the car and Roy opened the right rear door for me again. In the car, Roy turned around and handed me his card: Roy Husky, Fleet Industries, Special Projects Coordinator. It meant bodyguard, strong arm, and a lot more. There were two handwritten numbers on the back, beeper and cell phone.
“How long have you been working for Fleet?” I asked.
“Long time. Since jail. He took me on when nobody else would. I saw an ad in the paper for a chauffeur. I was supposed to send a resumé. What a joke. I was young and full of the devil and had just got out of prison. So I sent a note saying I didn’t have a resumé, but I could drive like hell. I couldn’t believe it when he called me to come for an interview. He asked me if I had been in jail and I said yes. He asked if I was tough and I said tough enough. He asked if I could take orders and I asked him what the job paid. When he told me, I said I damn sure could take orders. He taught me how to act, how to dress, even how to eat. He made me go to night school and get an associate degree in business. Joseph Fleet changed my life. He’s like the father I never had. I owe him.” Roy’s voice was intense, his eyes piercing. “Don’t let him down.”
He turned back to the windshield and put the car in gear and headed back toward Mountain Center.
I decided I would not want Roy Husky for an enemy. I knew when someone was telling me the truth and his loyalty to Fleet was genuine.
Joseph Fleet was harder to read. He had no reason to lie to me but I felt something was missing and I was sure sooner or later I would have to know what it was.
My mind wandered. I was a long way from Wall Street and there were times I missed the frantic pace of the city. The move from the University of Connecticut campus to Wall Street was