The Night Monster_ A Novel of Suspense - James Swain [38]
“What’s with the mutt?” Long asked. “I don’t like dogs.”
“Feel free to get out of the car.”
Long clenched his jaw and stared through the windshield.
“You don’t mince words, do you?” he asked.
“Why should I?” I replied.
The parking lot had emptied out, the halogen lights beginning to dim. Long let a long moment pass, then spoke without making eye contact with me.
“I just got off the phone with the head of the goddamn detective agency I hired to find Sara,” he said. “I asked him for a progress report, and he fed me a line of bullshit about the police arresting Tyrone Biggs, and that it was only a matter of time before Biggs confessed, and told them where he’d put Sara. I played along, and made him think I believed him. Then, I asked him if he’d talked to the FBI. Do you know what he said?”
I shook my head.
“He said ‘What for? This is out of their jurisdiction.’ That’s when I realized that all the guy was doing was feeding me the police reports on my daughter’s case. He’s done nothing, absolutely nothing.”
“There’s a reason they call them dicks,” I said.
Long turned in his seat. “I fired the son-of-a-bitch.”
“That’s a good start.”
“I want to hire you. You know more about what’s going on than anyone else. Say yes, and the job’s yours.”
I had already committed myself to finding Sara. I had to find out what had happened to her, and also what had happened to Naomi Dunn. In a way, the job was already mine. Long was offering to pay me for it.
“I’m game,” I said.
Long visibly relaxed. He was the kind of man that needed to move the needle. He removed a folded piece of paper from his shirt pocket, and passed it to me. I was not proud, and held the check up to the faint light coming through my window. It was a personal check made out to me for the sum of $50,000.
“You can’t be serious,” I said.
“Karl Long is always serious,” he said. “That’s the amount I advanced to the detective agency, and you deserve the same. If you find Sara, I’ll double it. She’s the only family I have. She’s worth everything to me.”
I folded the check and slipped it into my shirt pocket. My wife had a favorite expression: Everything happens for a reason. I shook Long’s hand, sealing the deal.
“I want regular updates on your progress,” he said. “Even if the news is bad, I want you to call me.”
“You’ll be the first to know. You have my word.”
The car fell silent. I sensed that Long wanted to continue the conversation, only there wasn’t much left to say. He glanced into the backseat at Buster.
“What kind of dog is that?”
“He’s an Australian Shepherd, but he’s got a nose like a bloodhound,” I said.
“Is the breed really from Australia?”
“Northern California. They were originally bred for herding sheep and cattle. He’s a champ at finding things, especially people.”
“So he’s your partner.”
“I guess you could call him that.”
Long bravely stuck his hand beneath my dog’s snout, and to my surprise, got his fingers licked in return. “Sara’s mother and I divorced when Sara was two,” he said. “I didn’t see Sara much when she was growing up, too busy building shopping centers and strip malls. When Sara was fourteen, my ex-wife got killed in a car wreck, and I suddenly became a parent. I struggle with it.”
“We all do,” I said.
“My situation is different. You have a good relationship with your daughter. I could tell by the way she looked at you during the game. I don’t have a good relationship with Sara. She hates me, thinks I’m an egotistical blowhard. I started coming to her games hoping to break the ice, but it hasn’t worked. The only time we speak is when she needs money for schoolbooks or to pay the rent on her apartment. I want to change that. I’m committed to changing that. I just need a second chance. Please find her for