Smoke and Mirrors - Hollywood Knights One by L.B. Clark

all but threw the file at me. She was scared out of
her mind.
    “It’s okay,” I told her. “Everything’s going to be
okay.”
    “I’m going to lose my job,” she said, wringing her
hands. “Or go to jail!”
    “No, you’re not. You’re going to sit down and have a
nice, calming cup of hot chocolate while I look at this file. Then
you’re going to sneak it back in the way you snuck it out, and no
one will ever know it was gone.”
    Some of the terror seeped out of Tina’s eyes and she
melted back into her seat. I slid onto the booth bench across from
her and flipped open the file folder. A server appeared a moment
later, and Tina ordered the hot chocolate. I opted for coffee. Once
the server left, I turned back to the file.
    As I surveyed the info in the folder, I pulled a
notepad and pen from my backpack so I could frantically scribble
notes: social security number, driver’s license number, etc. Then I
stopped scribbling and started using my brain. I pulled up the
camera controls on my cell phone and snapped shots of any
information that might prove useful.
    I was done with the file before Tina finished her
hot chocolate. I closed the cover and slid the folder across the
table to her.
    “Will it help?” she asked.
    “It will,” I told her. “Thank you.”
    She bobbed a nod.
    “And Tina,” I waited until she looked up at me and
then said, “If you get into any trouble, I’ll get you back out of
it, okay?”
    She nodded again, looking relieved. I dropped enough
cash on the table for our drinks and a sizable tip and then stood
up and offered Tina my hand. She shook it without standing, and I
took the opportunity to read her. It made me feel a lot better; the
probability of her getting into trouble for snatching the file was
the next best thing to nonexistent.
    “Good luck,” she told me.
    “Thank you. And thank you again for your help. I’ll
let you know what happens, if I can.”
    She nodded once more, and then I left.
    At the office, I pulled up a couple of the databases
I used in my investigations. Primary searches using Sarah’s
information didn’t turn up anything, which was a little strange. I
dug deeper and deeper, and what I found confused the hell out of
me…until a little light went on in my head: Sarah Matthews didn’t
exist. She was a phantasm. An illusion. Smoke and mirrors.
    I sat back in my chair, my mind whirling. Everything
made sense now. But where did it leave me?
    “Lost,” I said aloud and sighed.
    I grabbed my phone and thumbed through the pictures
I’d taken of Sarah’s file, wondering if there was any truth
anywhere in it. Her work history? Her high school? A lot of
prospective employers wouldn’t check too closely into those things.
Maybe there was a nugget of truth hidden beneath the lies. Sorting
through it all was my next logical step.
    I made a list of Sarah’s former employers and
verified their phone numbers. I also made a note of the high school
she had listed and found a phone number for them. The calls would
have to wait for morning. There was nothing more I could do for the
night, so I shut down the computer, locked up the office, and
headed home to sleep.
     

Chapter Twenty-Three
     
    There are a lot of groovy employment laws in the
U.S. that are designed to protect people from getting screwed over
by former employers who might happen to be holding a grudge for one
reason or another. For the most part, those laws are a very good
thing. But when you’re an investigator and you’re trying to get
former employers to talk to you, those same laws become one hell of
a nuisance.
    I struck out completely with most of the employers
and references that Sarah had listed on her application. Some had
no working number, but the ones I did reach seemed reluctant to
tell me much of anything beyond the fact that they didn’t have any
record of a Sarah Matthews ever working for their companies. A nice
lady at one of the businesses was kind enough to point me