Heir Hunter: A Novel of Suspense

The pivotal moment of the negotiation had arrived, the point in the dialogue when pen was poised over contract. Nick Merchant studied his latest clients and felt his pulse drum at his temples. They were simple people, probably possessing no learning beyond the ninth grade, if that. They sat across from him--Emma McClure in her faded floral dress and house slippers, and her son, a greasy, yellow-toothed biker named J.P. They huddled on their worn living room couch looking like two expectant parents. Nick expected their reaction to his forthcoming disclosure to be on a par with being told they held the winning lottery ticket. "Do you have any further questions, Mrs. McClure?" "I can't think of any." Nick leaned over the table and pointed to the blank line that read Client. J.P. looked over his mother's shoulder. "Sign it, Momma." "Quiet, J.P." "He wants you to sign it." "I told you to hush, boy!" she hissed. "Don't you be hanging over me like a vulture when I'm tryin' to think." Nick searched his mental data bank for the few properly placed words that would sway Emma McClure to give her autograph. Twelve thousand dollars hovered like the horseflies buzzing in the stagnant air of the McClure shack. He leaned forward and tried to speak soothingly. "You seem a bit unsure, Mrs. McClure. Is something unclear?" "Well, it's just that . . . well, things like this don't usually happen around here." "I understand," said Nick, with a smile. "I know this all seems a little strange. Do you have a copy of the yellow pages by chance? I'd like to show you something which may reassure you." J.P. rose from the couch at his mother's prompting and returned with the phone book. Nick took it and flipped through it till he came to the heading Private Investigators. "Here we are--Merchant and Associates. Our firm is a completely legitimate, family-owned business. We've been licensed by the state of California as private investigators for the last twelve years now. Our reputation in the field is excellent. If you'd like to check into us, you can call the local Better Business Bureau. I'm sure they would be happy to tell you all about us. I encourage you to do that if it will ease your mind." "He's bein' honest, Momma," begged J.P., his voice almost frantic. "You pipe down!" she snapped. She turned to Nick. "I don't think I'll be needing to call 'em. I believe I can trust you, Mr. Merchant. You say your family owns this business?" Nick shifted in his chair a bit. He didn't want to lie to the old woman, but he felt it was best to shield her from the complete truth. "My father started the company, ma'am. He retired four years ago." Emma looked over at her son. "I suppose a family-owned business couldn't be all bad, huh, J.P.'" "Sure," replied J.P., happy to agree. Nick nodded earnestly. "Ma'am, I promise you--there's nothing to be worried about. I wouldn't come into your home and lie to you. I guarantee you'll be very happy once you sign." He directed her gaze to the line requiring her endorsement. Mrs. McClure frowned. Her life had never been complicated by important matters such as this, but Nick Merchant had a boyish, honest face, and even though she hadn't been brave enough to admit to him that she didn't really understand half the things he had explained to her that past half hour, she did feel that she could trust him. She gave J.P. one last uncertain look and, seeing nothing but encouragement on his face, scrawled her signature across the line. She handed Nick the contract and his pen and sighed. Nick glanced over the signature and felt his saliva glands finally start working again. "Thank you, Mrs. McClure, and congratuLarsgaard, Chris is the author of 'Heir Hunter: A Novel of Suspense' with ISBN 9780385333634 and ISBN 0385333633.