Sneek Peek: The Final Upgrade, Chapter One
CHAPTER ONE
Private investigator Dutch Kindler stood at the window of his second-floor office in the downtown business district in Lumina City. He was staring out at the picturesque view of the harbor as he contemplated financial difficulties due to a recent slowdown in business. Clouds like puffs of cotton dotted the blue sky above as sunlight reflected off water, with boats docked in the port, and people seated on benches in the park nearby. It was a warm, sunny day in June.
“What a beautiful day,” he said as he turned to face his wife, who was seated at her desk working at her computer. “It’s kind of a shame we can’t be out there today after the recent rains.”
“Enjoying a day in the park isn’t going to help our finances,” replied his wife. Lyra looked at her husband. “We need to find work.”
“Work usually comes to us,” Dutch said as he returned to his own desk opposite Lyra’s. He lowered himself into the chair with a sigh. He ran his fingers through his blond hair as his blue eyes met Lyra’s steady gaze. He loosened his necktie and unbuttoned his shirt collar.
“We’ll be okay, Dutch. We’ve had slow times, before.”
“The rent is due, not only on this office, but on our apartment as well. We’ve been using our savings to pay bills. If this keeps up, we’ll—”
“Tell me something I don’t know,” Lyra replied.
“Aren’t you the least bit worried?” Dutch asked.
“Dutch, it’ll be alright. How about some more coffee?” Lyra rose and approached the utility cart housing the coffeemaker and a small microwave oven. Dutch watched her movements as his tall, slender wife prepared a pair of mugs with coffee, sugar, and creamer. She turned to approach his desk carrying the two mugs. He reached out to accept the one she extended to him, taking the mug with a thank you and a smile.
“Stop worrying, my handsome husband.” Lyra smiled and winked.
He stared at her backside as she returned to her desk with her own coffee in hand, his gaze lingering on her bottom and her legs. When she sat down, he studied her face, her hazel eyes, and her shoulder-length, dark brown hair. He thanked the heavens; he’d been fortunate enough to find an amazing wife.
There was a knock at the door. The door opened and their office manager, Josie Dantrell, entered. She was a tall, athletic looking black woman with long, curly black hair and brown eyes.
“Excuse me,” she said. “There’s someone who would like to see you.”
“Who?” Dutch asked.
“A lady named Nora Macartan. She says that it’s urgent. She appears rather troubled.”
“Nora Macartan?” Lyra’s eyebrows rose. “That name rings a bell.”
“Who is Nora Macartan?” Dutch asked with a frown.
“The widow of Kent Macartan,” Lyra replied. “You know, the corporate executive who killed himself last week.”
Dutch stared at his wife with a shrug of the shoulders, perplexed.
“It’s been all over the news,” Lyra said. “He was the founder and CEO of Cybernetic Security Corporation. He killed himself.”
“He did not kill himself.” Nora Macartan entered the room, going around Josie to stand between the two desks. “He was murdered.”
“Sorry,” Josie said. “I told Mrs. Macartan to wait in the lobby.”
“It’s okay, Josie,” Dutch said. “We’ll see Mrs. Macartan.”
“Why don’t you call it a day,” Lyra said, smiling at Josie. “It’s nearly quitting time, anyway.”
“Thanks,” Josie said, then turned and left the room.
“Which one of you is in charge, here?” Nora Macartan looked from one to the other.
“Neither of us is in charge,” Lyra said. “My husband and I are partners.”
“Why don’t we all have a seat at the table?” Dutch said, indicating a small round table and chairs in a corner of the room.
Nora Macartan was of average height with short blond hair and green eyes. She was impeccably dressed, all in blue, and held a worn leather briefcase in her right hand. She moved toward the table as Dutch and Lyra did the same. She set the briefcase down on the table and eyed them both.
“I want to hire you.”
“Hire us for what?” Dutch asked.
“I want you to find my ex-husband’s killer.”
“Police have said he killed himself,” Lyra said. “The case is closed.”
“That’s nonsense. Kent Macartan would never kill himself. He had too much to live for. Besides, he believed suicide is a coward’s way out.”
Nora Macartan opened the briefcase and moved it between Dutch and Lyra. The couple stared at the enormous sum of cash within, then at Nora, their expressions filled with surprise and wonder. Dutch sat with his mouth open, unable to believe his eyes.
“There’s one-hundred thousand dollars in there,” Nora said. “Once you solve the case, I’ll pay you an additional fifty thousand.”
“A hundred thousand dollars?” Lyra was utterly awestruck.
“You must really believe your husband—” Dutch began.
“Ex-husband,” Nora said. “But ex or not, Kent Macartan was a good man. And despite our divorce, I still loved him. I won’t allow this world to go on believing he killed himself when he didn’t. I’m determined to find his killer and preserve his legacy.”
Dutch looked at Lyra, who returned his gaze with equal amazement.
“Do you have any evidence to support your belief he was murdered?” Dutch asked.
“Yes.” Nora closed the compartment containing the money and opened another. She withdrew a worn, dark green book.
“This contains his notes, journal entries, and a list of contacts and associates,” Nora said. “You will see why I believe he was murdered.”
Dutch flipped through the book and handed it to Lyra, who then did the same.
“Why bring all this cash?” Dutch asked. “Why not write us a check?”
“Because cash can’t be traced,” Nora replied. “And as such, there will be no record of our transaction this way. You see…people know I don’t buy the suicide narrative. I’m being followed, and I’m being watched. I turned off GPS tracking on my phone…I sleep with a loaded gun in the nightstand…I fear for my own life.”
A dead silence fell over the room as Dutch and Lyra stared at each other for several moments. Finally, Dutch spoke.
“We’ll take the case.”
“Good. I thought it might be difficult to refuse one hundred thousand dollars, plus fifty more when you finish the job.”
“How will we keep in touch?” Lyra asked.
“I will contact you,” Nora replied. “No phone calls. I’m staying off the grid until this is over. I even hired a bodyguard for protection.”
Nora rose to leave. She reached in a pocket and dropped a key on the table. “The key to the house where he lived…where we both once lived. You have my permission to investigate there if you wish. My name is still on the deed.”
Dutch and Lyra rose. Dutch picked up the key and tucked it in a pocket.
“We’ll do our best to help you find the answers you need,” Lyra said.
“I will contact you in a few days to see how you’re doing,” Nora replied.
“I’ll see you out since our office manager has left for the day,” Lyra said as she escorted their client out of the room.
Dutch stared at the briefcase containing the money. He stared at the dark green book containing the handwritten words of the late Kent Macartan. Then, he shook his head, unable to prevent himself from laughing out loud. By then, Lyra had reentered the room.
“What’s so funny?”
“Can you believe that woman? I’ve never in my life experienced anything like this. If you ask me, Nora Macartan is a wee bit…nuts.”
“Nuts or not, we are a hundred thousand dollars richer,” Lyra said with a smile. “This case is the answer to our problems.”
“Yes, but it sounds like it has the potential to be dangerous, Lyra.”
“Is that fear I hear from my ex-military, physically fit and brave husband?” Lyra went to him and put her arms around him. “I’m not afraid of a little bit of danger. Are you?”
Dutch smiled and put his arms around his wife. But his smile quickly faded.
“Lyra, this isn’t going to be like catching cheating spouses or finding a missing loved one. We’re going to be doing potentially dangerous work.” He frowned, adding, “I think we should start taking target practice again. We may have to carry our guns on this one.”
“There you go, worrying again,” Lyra said. “But I agree with you. We’ll start preparations, tomorrow.” She leaned in to kiss him, and he met her halfway.
As Dutch allowed himself to enjoy their embrace, his mind was already planning for tomorrow.
“THE FINAL UPGRADE” BY RAY ROGERS. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. PUBLISHING VIA iUNIVERSE.
