Bequeathed

Chapter Twenty: Meeting With A Traitor

Claire walks into the Andrew Harris’ P.I firm. She knows the direction of the meeting room. She knows where to find Andrew, knows the hours he takes meetings. He should be in or is just about to get in. Claire walks to the receptionist’s desk; she plasters a smile across her face, the widest one she can muster.

“I’m here to see Mr. Harris,” says Claire.

“What time is your meeting?” Omar, Claire remembers. Omar checks the book laid out on his desk, then examines his computer screen. “I don’t see a meeting for right now. Can I have your name?”

“I’m an old friend.”

Omar looks up from his screen. He closes his book, his countenance shifts with each action. The pleasant smile has drained from his face, giving way to a dour expression. “Mr. Harris doesn’t accept walk-ins.”

“He’ll want to see me,” says Claire. “Let him know that I’m prepared to pay triple his normal rate.”

Omar watches Claire as he picks up the receiver of the phone that’s on his desk. He keeps his eyes on Claire, scrutinizing her face, her cream dress. If her shoes were in his field of vision, he would probably be analyzing them too, trying to learn whether or not Claire can do as she says. Omar mumbles into the phone then hangs it up.

“Mr. Harris will be right out.”

Andrew Harris emerges from the meeting room, wearing grey pants with fine red stripes. The top button of his white shirt is undone and the sleeves have been rolled up.

“I was told I have an old friend in my waiting room.” Andrew Harris extends a hand to Claire. She shakes his hand, maintaining her dishonest smile. Andrew Harris was enticed by the money. Claire is sure Andrew Harris would leave all his old friends out in the rain. He came to see her because he heard she would pay triple his exorbitant hourly.

He escorts her to the meeting room and pulls out a chair for her to sit. He sits one chair away from her.

“How did you find out about me?” asks Andrew.

“You know how these things often go,” Claire says, nonchalantly waving a hand in the air. “A friend of a friend of a friend.”

“So we are distant old friends.” Andrew Harris chuckles - it dies in his mouth. “So what can I do for you Ms…?”

“White. It’s White. I’m newly married…” It makes no sense to lie. He’ll find all this out. “My husband’s name is William James. I’d like you to find out everything you can about him.”

Andrew is fiddling with his phone while Claire speaks.

“Everything about him. Any crimes he might have committed. If any of the women he has dated died or went missing under suspicious circumstances.”

“So soon?”

“What?”

“Is this him?” Andrew shows Claire his phone. “He changed his relationship status to married…” Andrew turns the phone to himself. “...two weeks ago.” Andrew scrolls. “And he is going on and on about his new wife. How fortunate he is to have met you…love has no timeline. Once you know you know.”

Claire grabs the phone away, deposits it face down on the table. “I need you to dig. Everything. I want to know everything.”

Andrew glances at his phone, then Claire.

“Like I said. I’m willing to pay triple your regular rate.”

“My regular rate is pretty high.” Andrew leans back into his seat. “What’s the real story here?”

“I’m sure you’ll uncover that too.”

Andrew studies Claire’s face through narrowed eyes. “Usually I’m doing this type of work for women who have been married a while and want dirt on their husbands…so that they can keep their money or get more of his. Which is it?”

“I’m the one with the money. When can you get started?”

“For triple my rate? I’ve already started.”