Page 8 of Resolution

“Sure. Who am I looking for?”

“A guy by the name of Salvatore Mancuso,” I said. “He was at our first meeting with Gregory Aston and Tawny Flores. He was carrying a concealed weapon, so you might start with gun licenses in California.”

“Also, I’d check military records,” Miguel added. “I’m pretty sure the guy has some sort of training. Call it a hunch but there was something about the way he carried himself that tells me he was former military.”

“Agreed. And look into his relationship to Tawny Flores,” I said. “She introduced him as her friend but we both got the impression they were somehow involved.”

“Involved?”

“In a relationship.”

Her mouth made a little O. “Salvatore Mancuso.”

“Right. Salvatore Mancuso, spelled just like it sounds.”

“Okay. Will do, boss,” she said, pressing the button on the coffee maker to start the drip. “That gives me somewhere to start.”

“Thanks, Judy,” I said, walking into our office and shucking my coat as Miguel followed. I took his jacket and hung it on the rack along with my own before sinking into my comfortable chair. I glanced over at him as he sat behind his desk. “Who’re the other messages from?”

He flipped through the pink papers. “One is from a guy I’ve never heard of, one is from some kind of insurance agent, and the other one is from Vonne.” He thought for a second. “Why didn’t he just call me back on my cell?” He stood up and dug his phone out of his pocket. “Shit. I had this thing turned off. When did I do that?”

I smiled to myself. “You know when.”

He glanced over before something dawned on him. “Oh shit. I turned it off last night because I kept getting spam calls.” He picked up the message. “I bet this insurance agent is a spam call too.”

“What’s the name of the company?” I asked.

“Brown, Butterfield, and Spaulding.”

I frowned. “That’s a really big insurance company. What do you want to bet it has something to do with a recovery?”

He stood and walked over, holding the pink message out to me. “You call that one. I’ll call the other guy back.”

“Who is it?”

He read the message. “Brian Leopard.” He smirked at me. “What kind of name is that?”

I shrugged, smiling. “I have no idea but why don’t you call Vonne first? It might be important.”

“Yeah, I’ll do that.” He went and sat back down, powering on his phone and dialing Vonne while I stared at the paper in my hand. One of Brown, Butterfield, and Spaulding’s recovery agents had paid me a visit over the course of my career. He’d thought that by probing a recovery agent working for GMS by plying me with flattery over noon cocktails, I might accidentally tell him something about the whereabouts of the Van Gogh…any little hidey hole. Long before BBS became the insurer, GMS had held the policy for a time.

When premiums went up, the client had taken their business across the street to BBS who had the nasty practice of cutting corners wherever they could. In my case, their recovery agent was hoping that by getting me drunk, I’d point the fingers back at his client, probably so they could raise premiums once they did find it. He was mistaken. There was nothing in my life more important than my integrity, including—of course—the love of my life, the man sitting next to me.

BBS was one of the bigger companies, like the one I was working for when I met Miguel…GMS, the one who’d insured the Mulberry diamond. Now, though, I was intrigued by the little pink message I was holding and decided to call them right away. Hopefully, I wouldn’t be running into the same tool who’d been shocked when I’d successfully recovered the Van Gogh and beaten him at his own game. Though the name Tomlinson didn’t ring a bell, he could still know of me.

The thought that Tomlinson might also be working on the recovery of the ruby was entirely possible since Mrs. Flores would have had time to make her claim by now. GMS insured it but even so, our recovery contract with Aston and Mrs. Flores stated that Trackers was the recovery agency of record. GMS would have had my replacement searching for the stone, but that didn’t mean anyone else, like a recovery agent from BBS, hadn’t caught wind of the ruby. Judy had been doing a daily search for new bounties to help us build our business and bring some cash in, but as far as I knew the recovery of the ruby wasn’t on the open market. If that had been the case, Tawny Flores would have been in breach of contract, so it was something we always monitored.

When we’d signed the contract, I’d thought about starting our search for the stone by talking to someone over there, but I deliberately hadn’t done that. I’d burned some bridges by quitting and taking Judy along with me when I’d left to open Trackers with Miguel. Calling my old boss to tell him that we’d been hired by Tawny Flores to recover an item GMS had insured, would have set his hair on fire. Miguel and I both decided it would have been a really bad idea. I picked up the phone and dialed BBS as Miguel stood up and walked out of the room, taking his phone with him.

I waited for the phone to connect and asked for Tomlinson. The receptionist put me on hold for a minute before coming back to me. “I’ll put you through to Mr. Tomlinson’s office now.”

“Thank you very much,” I replied. She put me on hold again and after another thirty seconds of soft jazz in my ear the phone was picked up by a man who cleared his throat.

“Is this Mr. Mathis from the Trackers Recovery Agency?”

“Yes, this is Raven Mathis. Mr. Tomlinson?”

“Yes. Thank you for calling back so quickly. I was hoping you could help me.”

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