Page 41 of The Burnt
Simon shook Tom’s hand, then waved down their server. His name tag identified him as Wolf. He was a handsome man in his twenties. “A scotch, neat, for my friend. Same as mine.”
The server nodded and left without a word. Tom admired the view as the server walked away from him.
“More to your taste than the hostess?” Simon asked.
“He’s a little young, but he’d do in a pinch. So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this dinner?” Tom asked.
Simon sipped at his drink. “I wanted to thank you for your help. I signed the contract with that fellow you recommended. I think his firm is just what we need to find Milo or, at least whoever is pretending to be him.”
“Good,” Tom said.
Simon settled back into his chair. “But it won’t be Declan handling the case. I went to the office and the young man who I spoke to will be doing the work. His name is Charlie Watts and apparently he’s highly skilled at finding people.”
“I referred you to Declan,” Tom said, more sternly than he’d meant to. “How do you know this Charlie guy can be trusted?”
“I signed a non-disclosure agreement and Declan himself personally assured me that I’m in good hands. I know the stakes are high, but sometimes, you’ve just got to follow your gut.”
“Follow your gut? I wish I’d been there when you had your meeting.”
“Tom, we need fresh young eyes on this,” Simon said with a cold edge to his voice. “Don’t forget, you had ten years to find Milo, and nothing. Be grateful I took your advice in the first place. This is a huge risk, and for both of our sakes, I hope it works out. Do you understand?”
Tom gritted his teeth and nodded.
Wolf returned and silently placed Tom’s scotch on the table.
Simon smiled and turned to the server. “So Wolf, mygutinstinctsays that thefilet mignonspecial tonight would be anexcellent choice, but my companion doesn’t always trust my instincts. What do you think?”
“It’s an excellent choice sir,” Wolf replied.
“Wonderful,” Simon said. “We’llbothhave thefilet mignon. Rare.”
The waiter took the order and left the two alone.
“Now,” Simon continued, “let’s talk about something else. You might be interested in hearing about my most recent acquisitions.”
* * * *
The rest of the dinner was without incident. It appeared to Tom, that for Simon, fences between old friends could be mended as quickly as they were broken. The bill was paid and the handsome server Wolf was left a hefty tip.
Tom and Simon left the restaurant and walked toward their cars. As they rounded the corner of the building, Simon stopped dead in his tracks. He looked as if he had seen a ghost. Simon slowly raised his hand and pointed at his car. There was a letter ‘M’ crudely gouged into the driver-side of his beloved Bentley.
Simon let loose an unholy cry.
“Whoever it is, I’ll kill him!” he yelled out. “I’ll find him and I swear I will tear him to shreds.”
Tom moved closer. Something was tucked under the windshield wiper. It was a piece of paper. He carefully extracted and unfolded a printed message.
Everything of value will be taken away from you.
It’s time for the truth to come out.
I’m watching you.
Simon snatched the paper from Tom’s hand.
It was then that Tom noticed a piece of paper onhiswindshield. He opened it.
I know what you did!
