Back at Harris Enterprises, Sidney reviewed some paperwork at his desk. His cell phone rang. He glanced at his phone. “Brief me, Howard,” was the text from Sidney.
“He’s finished with his flying lesson, and I’m following him to see where he goes next,” Howard typed his text.
“Okay, keep me informed of all his movements,” Sidney ordered in his reply.
“You got it,” Howard replied from the cell phone.
Sidney set his cell phone on his desk and returned to his paperwork.
Howard’s Cadillac followed Brett’s Fairmont down the street.
Howard broke out and hummed the theme song to The Rockford Files. “Call me Howard Rockford,” he sang, puffing out his chest.
Fifteen minutes passed.
Brett parked his car in the lot.
Howard parked his Cadillac way down the end of the parking lot. He watched Brett leave his Fairmont and walk to the administration building.
“He went back to the plant,” Howard jotted in his notebook, glancing at his watch.
Howard quickly made a phone call on his cell phone.
Sidney reviewed some other paperwork in his office.
His cell phone rang, and he looked at it. “Give it to me,” he answered.
Agnes entered his office with a Burger King bag in her hand.
“He went back to the plant,” Howard responded from Sidney’s cell phone.
“Did he leave with that female instructor by chance?” he replied, watching Agnes drop the Burger King bag off before him.
“No,” Howard replied.
Sidney looked disappointed.
Agnes opened the bag, removed two Triple Stacker hamburgers and large fries, and set them in front of him. She blew him a kiss and walked away.
“Okay, keep an eye on him, and I want a report immediately when something steamy develops,” Sidney ordered.
“You got it, boss,” Howard replied.
Sidney closed his cell phone, opened one of the hamburgers, and munched down.
Howard relaxed inside his Cadillac, spying on the plant’s administration building entrance. His cell phone rang, and he looked at the viewfinder. “Hey, honey,” he answered.
“Where are you?” his wife said from his cell phone.
“I’m on assignment,” he responded, watching the administration building.
“On assignment? What does that mean?” she asked.
“Sidney Harris wanted me to tail his son-in-law. I’m like a private detective,” he bragged.
“What are you talking about?” she asked.
“I’m tailing Sidney Harris’ son-in-law,” he repeated.
“Stop this foolishness. You’re too old to be playing kiddie games,” she scolded.
“He was going to give me a ten-thousand-dollar bonus,” Howard replied.
There were a few seconds of silence on his cell phone. “Well, I guess you should go have fun being Mister Detective and don’t stay out too late,” his wife responded.
Howard closed his cell phone and watched the administration building.
Brett sat at his desk, staring at the stacks of financial records and papers scattered all over the desk. Brett daydreams while glancing at Corrie’s Flying Service brochure.
Brett got up, walked over to the printer, removed a piece of paper from the tray, and returned to his desk.
Brett opened a desk drawer and found a couple of pencils. He opened the brochure, looked at the picture of Corrie, grabbed a pencil, and started to sketch.
Sidney sat at this office in deep thought.
His cell phone rang, and he looked at the viewfinder. “Hey, baby,” he answered.
“Daddy, I hope Brett isn’t on thin ice for taking longer with the report,” she asked, sounding nervous from his cell phone.
“Oh no, honey. Don’t worry because I want him to succeed this time. So, I decided if it takes a few days longer, so be it,” Sidney lied.
“Good, because I set Brett up with an appointment with a realtor at a nice housing development called Wedgefield at four-thirty this afternoon,” Dorian replied.
“Well, don’t you worry, my confidence in Brett generating a top-notch report is growing higher,” he replied. “But be aware! If he fails, I’ll probably terminate him,” he added. “No, I will terminate him!” he promised.
“I know, Daddy, and I promise he won’t fail,” Dorian replied from his cell phone.
“I have to get back to work,” Sidney said, disconnecting the call. He kicked back, reviewing some paperwork.
Dorian sat in Brett’s LazBoy chair in the den. A huge smile grew on her face.
Hours passed.
Brett finished his sketch of Corrie at his office in the Alliance administration building. It’s beautiful, and he pinned it to the wall near his desk.
“I might as well make an effort,” he said, drudging through the financial records. “At least it will kill time.”
Hours passed, and it was 4:00 p.m.
Brett got up from his tedious work, glanced at his sketch of Corrie, and smiled at his beautiful work. He removed it from the wall and shoved it into his desk drawer.
Brett left the room.
In Howard’s Cadillac, the driver’s window was down. Howard’s eyelids fought to stay awake and slowly slumped in his seat.
Howard heard a car crank up, shot up, and noticed Brett’s Fairmont drive away.
Howard started his car and followed Brett out of the Alliance parking lot and down the street.
Howard rested his notebook on his steering wheel. “He left the plant at four p.m.,” he jotted in his notebook.
Fifteen minutes passed.
Howard Cadillac followed Brett’s Fairmont back to the parking lot of Corrie’s Flying Service.
Brett parked his Fairmont and got out with his flight bag in hand.
Howard parked his Cadillac at the far end of the parking lot. He shut off his engine.
“He’s back at Corrie’s Flying Service going into the building,” Howard jotted in his notebook and glanced at his watch. He grabbed his cell phone, punching in a phone number.
“Sidney, I have some more movement on our subject,” Howard said.
Sidney relaxed in his LazBoy chair in his den and sipped on a glass of Johnnie Walker Blue Label King George scotch on the rocks. “I’m listening,” answered Sidney.
“He left the plant and headed back to the airport. He went to that same place, took a lesson, or flew earlier today,” Howard snitched from the cell phone.
Sidney did a little victory dance in his chair, gulping down the rest of his scotch. “That’s interesting. Let me know where he goes next,” Sidney replied, disconnected his call.
Sidney got up and did a dorky happy dance across the floor to his bar. He poured another glass of scotch and did another happy dance back to his chair.
Olive entered the den and caught the tail end of his happy dance to his chair. “Why are you so happy?” she chuckled.
“Oh, just another business deal that looks very promising,” he fibbed. “Extremely promising!”
“That’s nice. I’m going to run out to the Fair Oaks Mall and do some more shopping,” she said. She walked up to his chair.
He stood up and gave Olive a little kiss on the lips.
Olive left, and he sat back down, sipping his scotch.
Brett waited on the couch in the Corrie business lobby.
Britney worked behind the counter and glanced at Brett with an occasional smile.
Corrie entered the lobby from her office. “Let’s go flying,” she said.
Brett jumped off the couch with a smile. They left the building.
From inside his Cadillac, Howard watched the flight line. He noticed Brett and Corrie walk over to the Piper Warrior. “He’s heading back to that airplane with that attractive woman,” he jotted in his notebook and glanced at his watch.
He watched Brett perform the pre-flight inspection with Corrie’s watchful eye.
Fifteen minutes passed.
They got inside the Warrior, and Brett started the Warrior up.
Howard watched Brett taxi the Warrior away. He looked at his watch, and his stomach growled. “He’s getting ready to take off in that airplane with that attractive woman,” Howard jotted in his notebook. Howard waited. “He’s taking off in the airplane,” he jotted in his notebook and glanced at his watch.
Brett did another smooth take-off from runway 23.
He made a left crosswind turn.
Down below, Howard raced his Cadillac down North Indianapolis Road.
Brett flew the Warrior to the southeast of Columbus and climbed to forty-five hundred feet.
Brett leveled the Warrior out.
Brett performed a slow flight maneuver in the Warrior.
Brett performed a power-off stall in the Warrior.
Brett performed a forty-five-degree steep turn to the left in the Warrior.
Brett performed a forty-five-degree steep turn to the right in the Warrior.
Brett flew the Warrior back to the Columbus airport.
Howard parked his Cadillac in the parking lot of Corrie’s business and shut off his engine. He had a perfect view of the flightline. He removed a Wendy’s double Baconator hamburger, large fries, and a cup of coffee, then unwrapped the burger and munched on it, watching the flightline.
He observed Brett’s Warrior making a perfect landing on runway 23. The Warrior took off again.
“Crap, he took off again!” Howard said with a mouthful of hamburger. He grabbed his notebook. “He landed and took off again,” Howard jotted in his notebook and glanced at his watch.
Howard munched on his Baconator and fries, watching Brett’s Warrior circle back around, landing again on the runway. He watched the Warrior take off again. “He’s doing landings and take-offs at the airport,” he jotted in his notebook and glanced at his watch.
Fifteen minutes passed.
Howard finished his meal and sipped his coffee while watching Brett taxi the Warrior back to the spot he had left. He watched the Warrior engine shut down. Brett and Corrie got out.
At the flightline, Corrie walked back to her building. Brett remained behind, locking up and tying down the Warrior.
“He’s heading back into Corrie’s Flying Service Building,” Howard jotted in his notebook and glanced at his watch. He punched in a phone number on his cell phone from his car.
Sidney was on his third glass of scotch on the rocks in his den. His cell phone rang.
“I’m all ears, Howard,” Sidney said from the cell phone.
“He just returned from his lesson with that female instructor,” he reported.
“Let me know if they leave together and if he takes more lessons,” Sidney requested.
“Yes, sir,” Howard replied.
Sidney disconnected their call. His eyes widened. An evil smirk grew on his face.
Inside the lobby of Corrie’s business, Britney still worked behind the counter. She snuck occasional glances at Brett and Corrie in the briefing room.
Corrie and Brett sat at a table next to Corrie.
She made an entry in his logbook for the third flight. “You did great today. If you keep this up, you’ll be soloing quickly.”
“Must be the excellent instruction I’m receiving.”
Corrie smiled.
Brett took his logbook and dropped it into his fight bag. “Would you give me the pleasure of dinner tonight? I’m getting tired of eating alone,” he blurted out, with hopeful eyes.
Corrie looked at Brett. “No, thank you. I got some work around here to catch up on,” she replied.
Brett frowned. “I understand,” he replied with sad eyes. “Does your schedule have an opening at nine-thirty every morning next week?” Brett asked.
“I believe so,” she said. “Britney, can you fit Brett in at nine-thirty every day next week?” Corrie called out.
A few seconds later. “He’s scheduled at nine-thirty Monday through Friday,” Britney said.
“Great. I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” Corrie said with a smile.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Brett said, leaving the room.
Corrie left the pilot’s briefing room and walked over to the counter. Britney and she watched Brett leave for the building.
“It’s a shame he’s married,” Britney told Corrie.
“He did comment that he was planning on leaving his wife. His marriage is making him miserable.”
“Well, what’s your problem? Go have lunch or dinner with him,” Britney replied. “There’s no harm in a friendly lunch. You can talk about airplanes.”
“I’ll think about it,” Corrie responded, then walked inside her office.
“She’s going to be single the rest of her life. You can’t marry an airplane,” Britney said under her breath, rolling her eyes.
Howard talked into his cell phone, watching Brett get inside his Fairmont.
Still in his den, Sidney was on his fourth scotch on the rocks, talking into his cell phone in his LazBoy chair.
“He’s leaving the airport, but the female instructor is staying behind,” Howard reported from Sidney’s cell phone.
“Okay, Howard, keep following him,” Sidney replied.
“Yes, sir.”
Sidney disconnected the call, sipped his scotch, and had evil thoughts. Then, his eyes widened. He jumped up from his LazBoy and rushed to his desk with his cell phone.
Sidney sat down and opened a lower drawer. He reached into the back of the drawer and removed a small black notebook. He opened it, looked up a name and phone number, and made a call.
“Hey Bruno, it’s me, Sidney,” he said into his cell phone.
“Hey Sidney, I haven’t heard from you in a long time; what do you need?”
“I need you to do something for me, and I’ll pay you two thousand dollars,” Sidney offered. “Two thousand, huh. I’m all ears,” Bruno replied.
“I have my son-in-law staying at the Residence Inn off forty-six, and I would like you to....”
Down in a bar in Columbus, Bruno listened to his cell phone. An evil smirk grew on his face. “That won’t be a problem to provide some interesting pictures with that job,” he replied.
“Good. You can email me the pictures at my work email address,” Sidney replied from Bruno’s cell phone.
“You got it, boss,” Bruno replied. He disconnected his call and quickly made another one. “Hey baby, I need you for a little job,” Bruno said into his cell phone.
“How much?” the female replied from the cell phone.
“Six hundred,” replied Bruno.
“Sound good. What’s the job?” she asked.
Bruno explained on his cell phone.
From their den, Dorian watched TV on the LazBoy. Her cell phone rang. She saw the caller in the viewfinder. Why is he calling me?” “This is Dorian Woods,” she answered the call.
“Miss Woods, this is Ralph Stinson, the realtor down in Columbus. You called and stated you were interested in the house off Addison,” Ralph said from her cell phone.
“Yes, sir, you were supposed to show the house to my husband at four thirty. He was going to email me some pictures that I could review to see if I’m interested,” she replied.
“I know. I waited at the house, and your husband never showed up or called. And I just got another call from a couple interested in that house, and I’m showing it to them in a few minutes. I’m so sorry. But maybe there’s another listing that might interest you?” Ralph responded.
Dorian beat her other fist on the arm of the LazBoy. “I’ll think about it and get back to you. I’m sorry my husband stood you up,” Dorian said. She disconnected her call and beat the arms of the LazBoy with both fists, gritting her teeth.