W is for Wasted (Kinsey Millhone 23)
Page 28
“What’s his position now?”
“Head of the research lab. There are guys above him, but essentially he runs the show.”
“I’m surprised he wasn’t part of the hiring process—the interview or some such.”
Willard apparently hadn’t thought of that, so Pete left the subject and moved on, saying, “Any rate, now they’re thrown into regular contact, you’re worried sparks might fly.”
“I wouldn’t say worried. I’m concerned. It’s not that I don’t trust her.” The sentence came to an abrupt halt.
“However . . .”
“There’s a professional conference in Reno during this upcoming Memorial Day weekend. I knew she was planning to attend. What I didn’t realize until a couple of days ago was that he’d be there as well. He’s presenting a paper.”
“I don’t believe you’ve mentioned your wife’s name.”
“Mary Lee.”
“The two plan on traveling together?”
“Not as far as I know. She hasn’t said anything to that effect.”
“One way or the other, you’d appreciate assurance everything’s on the up-and-up.”
“Exactly.”
“This fellow have a name?”
“Dr. Reed. Linton Reed.”
“Bit of a wunderkind,” Pete said.
“Pardon?”
“Fellow must be on a fast track, given they started out the same. Sounds like you’re talking star power if he’s already heading up a lab.”
“I guess.”
Pete took out a weather-beaten spiral-bound notebook and jotted down the name before he went on. “Are you talking medical doctor or a Ph.D.?”
“Both. He went through a program at Duke that combined the two. His Ph.D. is in biochemistry.”
“Admirable. And he lives where?”
“Montebello. As I understand it, his wife comes from money. Quite a lot of money, as a matter of fact. Her family’s well known in town—very prominent—so he definitely married up.”
“You’re telling me he’d risk all of that in order to pursue a relationship with your wife?”
“I really have no idea.”
“Have you met him?”
“I have, yes.”
“Good-looking fellow?”
“Women seem to think so. I’m not impressed.”
Pete pinched his lower lip, then shook his head. “Might not be anything to it, but it always pays to be informed. Unfortunately, what you’re talking here is an expensive proposition.”
“Money’s not the issue. I wasn’t sure if this was the type of case you handled as a rule.”
“You’re asking about my personal qualifications? May I call you Willard?”
“Please do.”
“Appreciate it, Willard. Point of fact, domestic happens to be a specialty of mine. My forte’s exactly the sort of situation you describe. Not to toot my own horn, but you ask around and you’ll find out I’m a man who not only gets results, but I’m known for my discretion. That’s a rare combination. I’m not saying there aren’t younger practitioners coming up behind, but there’s no one as well trained. I’ll admit I’m old-school, but you couldn’t be in better hands.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear it.”
Pete waited.
Willard cleared his throat. “When you say ‘expensive,’ I’m not sure what kind of money you’re talking about. I hope I’m not putting you on the spot.”
“No need to apologize, but here’s what you should be aware of. You’re talking short notice here. This is the seventeenth, which means I have ten days to get my ducks in a row. I’m talking about equipment, airline tickets, a rental car once I’m on site. Once I find out where the conference is taking place, I still need time to study the layout, establish personal contacts, determine who’s staying where . . .”
“I can give you most of that.”
“Good thing. Because I’m a man who likes to be prepared.”
“You’ll provide receipts?”
“No question. I’ll submit an invoice same time I hand over my written report. Of course, I’ll be needing an advance.”
“You mean right now?”
“As good a time as any.”
“What did you have in mind?”
“Twenty-five hundred should be sufficient.”
“Oh. Well, fine. If you’ll take a credit card, I can use my business account.”