Page 19 of Monkey Business

“I think we need to make a trip to Lanier,” said Ian.

“Good morning, Mr. Lanier,” said Ghost, stretching out his hand. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with us.”

“Not a problem at all,” said the man. He was tall and lean, with a head full of silvery-reddish blonde hair. His big smile was immediately welcoming. He wore dark blue jeans with comfortable loafers and a corporate logo polo shirt.

“I like your idea of business casual,” smirked Ghost. The man laughed, shaking his head.

“Between you and me, I had a hard time getting used to this. I was a guy who spent ten years in the Army, then worked my way up the corporate ladder in a suit and tie. When the rest of the world said, ‘you’re stifling my creative style,’ you can only imagine what I wanted to say.”

“Probably the same thing we would say,” smirked Ian.

“Exactly,” laughed the man. He lifted his arms in frustration, slapping them against his thighs. “Well, here we are, and I’m a bit more comfortable now. I guess it’s not so bad.”

“No. It’s not. This is our work attire,” said Ghost, laughing, waving a hand down at their bodies. Each man wore jeans, running shoes, and a t-shirt. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“You guys look like former military,” smiled Lanier.

“We both were Navy SEALs,” said Ian. Lanier raised a brow, nodding at the men.

“You have my attention.”

“We own a security and investigation firm now. We’re looking into a cold case involving Gus Presley.”

“Oh, yeah,” nodded Lanier with a sad expression. “Old Gus. I can’t believe he did it. I know the evidence said he left those folks in his trailer, but I don’t believe it.”

“Why?” asked Ghost.

“You guys know how it is. You meet someone and immediately have this gut instinct that they’re good or bad. Gus was all the way good. I mean all the way. He was the one using his truck to transport toys for a Christmas toy drive, free. When he knew we were moving here because of financial reasons, he gave me a fifteen percent discount. I can promise you, no one else offered that.

“When the team was unloading the furniture when it arrived, I had to use my own employees. I paid them, and they were great about it, knowing that the company was in a slump. Gus chipped in, and then when one of my guys cut his hand on a metal desk, Gus got it cleaned, dressed and took him to the ER for me so we could get the rest of it off the truck.

“I know the evidence seems convincing, but I just don’t see it. Not him. That’s a man with a good heart.”

“Did you ever see any signs of dementia? Maybe symptoms of him becoming forgetful?” asked Ghost.

“Not that I can truly say. I mean, did he forget little things? Sure.”

“Like?” prompted Ian.

“Like he forgot the paperwork on that last drop he did for us. It took me three weeks to get him to send it to me. He kept saying he’d done it. It was no skin off my teeth, it was us that owed him money. Another time, he got dizzy, and we had him sit down. When I asked him when the last time was he ate something, he couldn’t remember.

“But he never, I do mean never, hurt anyone, lashed out, acted erratically. He was just a sweet old guy, although I guess he really wasn’t that old.”

“Did he ever mention his sister?” asked Ian.

“Once. I read in the papers the other company said he was always railing on about her, but that’s not what we saw. My VP of Operations was telling him about his kid sister getting married. She was only twenty, and the guy she was going to marry was thirty-five. He thought he was a piece of shit, and she should stay away from him.

“Gus pulled him aside and quietly told him the story of his sister and how horrible it had been for him. He said had he known then what would happen, he would have refused to allow his sister to marry the guy.”

“That’s helpful,” said Ghost. “I’m wondering, did Gus ever display any signs of learning challenges or an inability to understand things?”

“You’re asking if he was smart,” said Lanier, staring at the two men.

“I guess so,” said Ghost, realizing that he was going to have to tell a lie. “We found a diary of his and he commented several times that he wasn’t very smart. He even said his sister’s husband called him ‘retarded.’ I hate that fucking word, so I’m trying to figure out if he was dyslexic or something.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to sound harsh. I would hear people say that about Gus. Even the news media said something about his low IQ. I think Gus was smarter than people gave him credit for. He wasn’t a genius, but he could be taught anything if you had the patience.

“When we needed to hook up our computers in the office, I only had one guy here that day. Gus offered to stay an extra day and help, but he asked that someone show him what to do. One time. One time is all it took, and he followed the directions to the letter after that.”

---