The new Nick Forte novel, Criminal Econ 101,
hits closer to home than previous books in the series: Forte’s ex-wife – and,
by extension, his beloved daughter Caroline – may be in danger. Readers of the
series can well imagine how well that goes over with Nick.
1
Diane was scared.
Ten years of marriage, acquainted twice
that long, this was new to me. I’d experienced impatience. I’d seen irritation.
I had intimate familiarity with exasperation, most often directed at me shortly
before and well after she requested I seek other living arrangements. I could
count on one hand the times I saw her worried, even when we were married.
Worrying was my job.
Having no experience with a frightened
Diane didn’t make me special. She negotiated partnerships for one of the ten
most prestigious consulting firms in the country. I’d spoken to her co-workers
at social events who marveled at her implacable nature. One man who described
himself to me as an alpha male told me once he’d been told to let her take lead
in negotiations because, “the other guys might as well try to bargain with
Mount Rushmore.”
I’d learned through years of experience
to let her bring concerns to me instead of asking what was on her mind, after
which I’d spend three days wondering when I’d learn not to do that.
Our daughter Caroline went to her room
to get what she needed for the weekend at my place. Fourteen going on
bankruptcy – mine – she’d inherited her mother’s taste in many things. Too bad
for me. Diane made probably twice as much as I did when I did well, which I
currently was not. I wasn’t broke – the house and child support payments were
always on time – but my funding sources had become more unorthodox since my
detective agency downsized to being only me.
Diane waited until we heard Caroline
rummaging upstairs. Moved to within three feet before saying anything. Her
voice wouldn’t have carried another six inches. “Can we talk?”
No human being since the creation of
spoken language has ever wanted to have a conversation that begins with the
other person saying Can we talk? The first answer that came to mind – Do
we have to? – was superseded by the realization whatever Diane wanted to
talk about probably concerned Caroline. Accepting the situation, I followed
Diane into her home office, where she reached across me to shut the door.
Another bad sign. No way was this a conversation I wanted to have if she felt
the need to exclude Caroline.
Diane said, “This is probably nothing.”
Which meant whatever she was going to
say was definitely not nothing. She left the comment hang in the air hoping I’d
say something – anything – to move the conversation. I passed. The best way to
get people to talk about what they’re not comfortable talking about is to leave
a silence for them to fill.
This one passed through awkward and was
coming up on excruciating before she caved. “I think someone is following me.”
I long ago got over any hard feelings
from our divorce. It still took effort not to react. A friend told me Diane and
I resembled siblings who had a major falling out and came to understand they
could get along by avoiding certain topics.
Even if I weren’t so enlightened,
someone following Diane was following Caroline, if only by association.
That was unacceptable.
If true.
I kept my voice neutral. Creating the
perception of doubting her judgment could send the conversation into the swamp
in a hurry. “What makes you think so?”
“I keep seeing the same car. Sometimes
in traffic. Sometimes in the parking lot at work.”
The bridge across the swamp was shaky,
but holding. “What kind of car?”
“A black Hyundai.”
“Same driver every time?”
“I think so. It’s hard to say. I only
get glimpses as I go by, or he does.”
“Always a man, though.”
“I think so.”
“White? Black? Hispanic? Other?”
“Definitely white.”
So probably white. No offense to Diane,
but eyewitness statements are reliable as a junkie’s promise, especially for
witnesses under duress.
“He ever try to approach you?”
Diane shook her head.
“Anything else going on?”
“Like what?”
“Phone calls? Hang ups? Prowlers?”
Wrong thing to say. “Do you think he’d
come to the house?”
“I have no reason to think he’d do
anything. I don’t know for a fact he’s even following you. All I’m doing is
asking.”
“You don’t believe me?”
Oops. Time to regain my footing. “I
believe you think someone is following you. Who and why I can’t say. I need
more information.” Paused. “Does Caroline suspect anything?”
“No! I would never say anything that
might scare her.”
“That’s not what I asked. She’s smart
and she’s sensitive to what’s going on around her. You wouldn’t have to say
anything for her to wonder if something was up.”
Diane took a few seconds for a breath.
“I don’t think so. At least I haven’t noticed anything.”
My daughter’s mother’s superpowers did
not include picking up on non-verbal cues. She sounded as definite as I could
expect given her current state of mind.
I said, “Call me if you see him again
and I’ll come running. That’ll tell us right quick if it’s your imagination or
if someone really is following you. Or if someone who lives near here works in
your building.”
The idea she might be wrong appealed to
her. Something else I’d never seen before. “But what if I’m right and someone is
following me?”
“Then we’ll see how much he likes
being followed.”
