Caveman (2 page)

I snort. “Yeah, right. Dream on, Layla. Dream on.”

“G
ood afternoon, Mr. Smith. Cassandra Hale. We spoke on the phone?”

“Ah, yes. Miss Hale. I remember you. Come in, come in.”

I take a seat and watch as he walks around the desk to his own chair.

“I don’t understand why it was so important that we meet in person. I mean, not that I’m complaining.” He leers at me from top to bottom. Gross! He is nearly thirty years my senior.

I give him a tight smile. “Well, the person I’m looking for was last seen seven years ago. It was best to discuss things with you in person so I could show you some pictures that might help you remember.”

He frowns in thought. “Seven years ago? I’m not sure I’ll be able to help you if it was that long ago. My memory isn’t all that good anymore.”

“Hence the photos,” I repeat, pulling out the one of Damon from my file. I push it on the desk towards him. “Do you remember this man?” I purposely don’t mention a name. Some people remember more details the less they know.

Mr. Smith’s thoughtful face switches into one of recognition and his lips form a small “o”. “Damon,” he whispers.

“Then you do remember him,” I ask feeling hope for the first time in three weeks. All I’ve managed so far is to read each folder Mr. Sawyers sent me on his brother ten times and obsess over his picture from seven years ago. I’ve memorized each detail of his face. He can’t have changed much.

Mr. Smith nods and looks at me sadly. “I do. I still think about him from time to time, wondering where he might have gone.” He smiles a little. “He was my best student.”

Okay. Finally something new. “Student?”

Mr. Smith nods. “Yes. Brilliant. He could get it up on his own within three days.”

That sounded a little gross. “I don’t understand.”

He blinks at me as if
I
am the one talking gibberish and points at a diploma on the wall behind him. “Small aircrafts. I gave him his pilot’s license.”

Yes! Now we’re getting somewhere. “What kind of an aircraft?” I ask as I start taking notes.

“Single and twin-engine ones. I’m telling you, he was a natural. In fact, I doubt there was anything that boy couldn’t do. He was brilliant.”

“Is,” I correct without realizing it.

“Excuse me?”

I suppress a wince and repeat. “Is. We don’t know if he can be referred to in the past tense yet. For all we know he is still alive somewhere.”

His face softens and he nods. “Yes, that’s right. I really hope that. As I said, he is a brilliant young man. It’s more likely he left on his own to get away from the man he was unlucky enough to call a father.”

“What can you tell me about Mr. Chandler Sawyers?” I have plenty information on the man – scaling from exceptionally good to unbelievably bad – but it never hurts to learn more.

Mr. Smith shakes his head. “Brilliant but hateful man. Never met him, of course. Only what I heard from Damon. Maybe it’s best I don’t tell you that.”

“On the contrary, Mr. Smith. I need to get as much information I can about Damon Sawyers. His opinion about his father seems essential to me.”

“Well…” He stands from his desk and paces behind it, looking at Damon’s picture in his hand. “The old man had issues and he seemed to blame Damon for every single one of them. He could have as well blamed him for the greenhouse effect. Damon thought his father was bitter but I’m pretty sure the man hated him. He hated his own son.” He shakes his head in sadness. “In the few hours we spent together he let it all go. When Damon was in the plane, when he was flying, he didn’t care a bit about anything else. I know for a fact he took on other extreme sports but flying a plane was by far his best. It set him free.”

“Did he have a jet of his own?” I ask as I’m struck with an idea.

Mr. Smith frowns. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. He never told me of having one. But then again he had enough money to buy ten of those. Or his father did.”

“Can you remember anything else about the day he disappeared?” I ask hopefully.

He furrows his brow. “No. At least not right now. I could call you if anything comes to mind.”

I nod and push two other pictures towards him. “How about these two? Do they bring any memories that could possibly help me?”

He looks down at the two women. One is Damon’s girlfriend from seven years ago. She is currently engaged to a rich prick who is definitely cheating on her but I doubt she’s just idly standing by. I think they may possibly have a mutual agreement to screw every adult of the opposite sex while pretending they don’t know about each other doing it.

He focuses on the second picture that shows a mysterious woman. I have no idea if she has any real connection with Damon. Through her name I have found out that she had once been employed by Mr. Chandler Sawyers in his company as an assistant’s assistant, long before either of his children were born, but no connection to Damon Sawyers whatsoever.

“She reminds me of someone. Who is she?”

I tap my pen on my chin. “I could tell you but I’d rather do it after you place her face. I don’t want your answer to be affected by mine.”

He nods and furrows his brow even further. “Who is she? Her face…” He snaps his fingers and looks at me in question. “Is she Damon’s mother? I think he looks a little like her.”

I blink rapidly at him. “His mother? No, that’s not Mrs. Sawyers. She used to work for Mr. Chandler Sawyers. Her name is Fiona Jameson.”

He frowns again and finally shakes his head. “I’m sorry but no. I don’t know her.”

I take back the pictures and nod. “Okay. Thank you anyway.” I stand and give him my hand. “I appreciate your help. I think I may have enough to look for him now.”

“Let me know if you find him and give him my regards.”

“I will. And I would appreciate it if you gave me a call in case you remember anything else.”

“Hey, Jeremy. Any phone calls?”

“Just one boss. The usual.”

I sigh. Cole Sawyers has been calling every day to see if I have any news on his brother’s case. I could call him and tell him what Mr. Smith has told me today but I want to look a little further into it. And first and foremost…

“Jeremy. Did you check all of Damon Sawyers’ money transactions from before he disappeared like I asked you to?”

“Yes, boss.”

“Stop calling me boss. Is there something that could indicate that he bought a plane?”

“Uh. No.”

“What, just like that?”

“No… boss?”

“Stop calling me boss, jackass. Look again. I know this is the reason he disappeared. I’ll bet you anything that he bought an aircraft and left the country without anyone knowing.”

“But someone would have found the trail already,” Jeremy argues. “It’s not like the previous investigators didn’t have access to his financial transactions.”

“Check again,” I insist. “Thoroughly. It’s our only hope right now. Also, I need you to find me more information about Fiona Jameson. Anything you can and everything that links her to the Sawyers family. Mr. Smith said that she looks a little like Damon and I will have to agree with him. It may be possible that Damon wasn’t Mrs. Sawyers’ son.”

Jeremy’s perfectly plucked eyebrows rise up to meet his hairline. “It would explain why Chandler Sawyers treated him so bad. If Damon was an illegitimate child left on his doorstep, he could have blamed him for causing a rift in his marriage. Have you discovered anything about Mrs. Sawyers filing for a divorce?”

“Nothing of the sort. As far as I know, Mr. and Mrs. Chandler Sawyers had a perfect marriage. Plus, Mrs. Sawyers as we’ve been told adored Damon.” I huff. “It actually doesn’t make any sense but I can’t help the feeling that this has everything to do with Damon’s disappearance.”

“Boss…”

“Don’t call me boss, Jeremy or I swear you’re fired.”

“Fine. Cass. Cassie. Cassandra. You do realize you’re referring to our case with his first name, right?”

I sigh. He’s right. “I know. But he’s not a cheating husband or a possible criminal. He’s someone we’re trying to find.”

“But he’s a case, honey. You don’t want to get emotionally attached to someone that we don’t even know is alive.”

“I’m not getting emotionally attached, Jeremy. Jesus, I don’t even know the guy.”

“Sweetheart, you have a huge heart. I always thought that it was too huge to be doing a job like this and if I were into women I’d be definitely on my knees for you. But from what I know about you, you don’t need to know someone to get emotionally attached. Everyone you’ve spoken to has been telling you for three weeks that the man was a brilliant, handsome specimen, bordering on prince charming. You’ve been getting obsessed on finding him to the point you haven’t taken any other cases.”

“I had other cases,” I argue in absolute irritation.

“And when they were done, you didn’t take any others.”

“This is a big case, Jeremy. Have you seen how much Cole Sawyers is paying us to find Damon?” I inwardly wince for calling him by his first name again.

“I know it is. And I will stop now and say nothing but this. Be careful of that big heart of yours. What if we find him and he’s a completely different person and you’re disappointed? Or what if… what if we find out he’s dead, Cass?”

An actual physical pain slices through my heart and I know in that moment he’s right. I’m already emotionally involved into finding a man I have never met in my life. Maybe it’s because it’s my first case in two years that I don’t have to take pictures of people screwing or dealing drugs. Or maybe I’ve been affected by everyone’s opinion about Damon Sawyers like Jeremy says.

But I don’t care. I need to finish this case. I need to find Damon and, yeah, I need to find him alive and well. And I know in my gut that this is the way. Through his finances and Fiona Jameson.

“Check the finances again. And I’ll try to find Fiona Jameson.”

“You’re obsessed,” Layla accuses before filling her mouth with chocolate soufflé and vanilla ice cream. It has become a nightly ritual.

“I’m not obsessed,” I say coolly and trying for nonchalance. “I’m dedicated.”

“Dedicatedly obsessed,” Dean corrects in all seriousness. “It’s been – what? – three weeks and you haven’t stopped talking about this guy. And talking about him as a man and not as a case.”

“Okay, why does everyone keep saying that? He
is
a man and not just a case. He’s my first case that’s worth something. I’m sick of photographing people screwing their brains out with someone other than their husbands or wives. This is a
real
case.”

“Okay, honey, don’t get your hackles up,” Layla says trying to calm me. “We were just making an observation. We’ve never seen you so…” I narrow my eyes as she searches for the right word, “…passionate about your job.”

I sigh. “Well, that’s because I wasn’t. I haven’t been. You guys, I have a really good feeling about this. I know I will find him. I just know it.”

Layla smiles around her spoon and swallows. “Well, I have no doubt about that. You know I believe you’re the best PI there is.”

I smile at her and relax a bit. At least until Dean leans forward and pins me with a stern look. “Just be careful, Cass. Until you find out more, you don’t actually know what you’re dealing with. People don’t just disappear like that. This could be far darker than you can even imagine. Tread carefully.”

I sigh in defeat and nod. “Fine. I promise I will.” My phone starts ringing and I grab the chance to cut this conversation short. I hurry to the kitchen and hit answer. “Talk to me, Jer.”

“You. Are. Brilliant!”

My mood immediately lightens and I smile. “What? What did you find?”

“Exactly what you thought I would. It took me all fucking day and a good portion of the night but I found the missing trail. Damon Sawyers
did
buy a private aircraft about two weeks before falling off the face of the earth. And the reason no one found out about it was because the purchase was made in the name of Chandler Sawyers and placed under the company’s expenses. There are records of a small, twin-engine private aircraft being purchased but then it’s like that aircraft doesn’t exist.”

“Jeremy, you are
amazing
! Did you find the—”

“Purchase details, aircraft number and even what size was the salesman’s—”

“Jeremy!”

“—shoe! I was going to say shoe!”

“Right. Well, it doesn’t change anything. You’re a genius.”

“I know, darling. I’ve sent you all the info on your e-mail along with Fiona Jameson’s home address and phone number.”

“You… you found her? Jeremy! You are—”

“Amazing, I know. I’m also extremely tired but thankfully I’m off tomorrow and for the next three days.”

Fuck. I had completely forgotten about that. “Yeah, I remember. You’re going to your mom’s then?”

“You bet your ass. She’s baked me cookies and muffins and I’ll be coming back ten pounds heavier.”

“Well, enjoy your small vacation then and I’ll see you Monday.”