Colt Crawford - Chapter 2

With a newfound zeal for life, Colt applied a little more pressure to the accelerator and the car responded by picking up the pace. He carefully merged into the exit lane and pulled into the downtown parking garage adjacent to the high rise building where his office was located. He quickly caught an elevator to the fifth floor and hurried down the hall.

Since it was New Year’s Day the building was empty. When Colt opened the office door it came as no surprise that Jamaica, his attractive and fashionable receptionist, was not at her desk. She had been a valuable addition to the team a few years back. Her face was that of a model and it lent a lot of credibility to the image conscious clientele with which he worked.

Colt was proud of this office and his staff. The office was a status symbol that he had worked hard to achieve. He attributed his success to his work ethic and his passion for keeping his employees happy. His was a demanding career and Colt Crawford spared no expense when it came to retaining competent employees. It was this passion that drove him to take the lead on the holiday stakeout. He had instructed the others to take the day off and as his token of appreciation for their hard work, Colt would follow up on a few of their cases.

Strolling past the receptionist desk, a light in the back corner caught his eye. The detective made his way toward the Cubbie Zone as the team affectionately referred to the row of cubicles in the back of the suite and found Charlie Marshall sitting at his desk. “I thought I told you to take the day off,” Colt said as he approached the cubicle.

“I know, I just stopped by for a couple of hours to get caught up on paperwork. The S.C. game doesn’t start for another hour.” Charlie shared Colt’s work ethic and passion for success. He was just the man Colt needed to see.

“Charlie,” Colt began. “You’ve been here for a while now. I think you are ready for more.”

“What do you mean, Boss?” Charlie asked pausing from his feverish typing. He was a big man so it always impressed Colt when his thick fingers moved effortlessly across the keyboard. Weighing in around 250 and just a hair under six feet, Charlie Marshall was indeed imposing. Fortunately for Colt, Charlie also had the brains to match his braun. As a graduate of USC, Charlie could follow complex situations and piece together evidence in his head while all the other investigators relied on white boards and diagrams.

“I’m going to take an indefinite leave of absence and I am putting you in charge.” Charlie wasn’t sure what to say so he just listened as Colt laid out the plan. “I’ll type up a memo explaining it all to the staff. You get a 10% raise effective immediately.”

“I can’t argue with that,” Charlie said. “That would help my wife dig herself out of that Christmas spending spree she just had. Do you mind telling me why you are doing this?”

“I’m just ready for a change. I’m 33, single, rich, and bored. I need some time away to think things through. I’ll be back.”

“So is this raise just temporary, then?” Charlie asked as he leaned his broad body back in the comfortable office chair.

“I’ll tell you what. You keep the business steady while I’m gone and the raise is permanent. Deal?”

“You got it, Boss,” Charlie replied extending his hand toward Colt. The two men shook and Colt retreated to his office to tie up a few loose ends before heading out. Since he owned the company, his income would be relatively untouched in his absence, at least for the short-term. As long as the clients kept coming, money would not be an issue.

By seven o’clock that night, Colt had handed off his case files to his associates, tied up several other loose ends at the office, handed over the day-to-day operations to a new guy, packed up a week’s worth of clothes and hit the road. He cruised around L.A. with the top down for about a half hour enjoying the cool evening breeze. He eventually ended up at an on ramp for the 101. “Which way do we go?” Colt said half expecting the car to answer his rhetorical question. As he waited at a red light he pulled a quarter from his pocket. “Heads we go north, tails we go south,” he said. With a quick flip the quarter spun upwards and landed in his right hand. Colt glanced down and saw the face of a famous dead president staring up at him. “North it is,” he sighed as the light turned green and the BMW seemingly steered itself to the northbound 101.

The holiday traffic was light and Colt found his speed pushing 90 at times. The top was up by now so the wind no longer mattered. He tried to slow down on several occasions, but the car just couldn’t be tamed. As he made his way past the big city, he came to the town of Calabasas on the northern edge of Los Angeles County. On the left side of the freeway a McDonalds sign caught his attention. It wasn’t his favorite place to eat, but it did have the one thing Colt craved at that moment. Ever since he was young, he could remember mixing some of his dad’s Coke with his mom’s Diet Coke whenever the family went out to eat. There was just something about that combination that had stuck with him all these years. He also figured that McDonalds was likely to actually be open on a holiday, so it would have to do.

He parked the car under the lights in the parking lot and made his way inside. The line was short and the burger, if you can call it that, was ready in only a few minutes. Colt was in no hurry since he had no idea where he was even going. He selected a booth on the edge and sat down to sip his Coke/Diet soda while he ate the burger and gave each person in the restaurant made-up names. In the far corner were a couple he nicknamed Brad and Jen. They were both attractive and trendy. Clearly the typical L.A. yuppies. Then there was Harrison. He got the name because of the bushy tuft of hair that protruded from the back of the collar on his orange t-shirt. Sleepy was the college student who had a text book in front of him, but had no intention of actually reading it.

As a life-long bachelor Colt was used to eating alone. With the exception of his intentions, this night was not unlike any other night he had experienced in recent memory. He frequently worked late and ate alone, but for the first time, on this night, it bothered him. Colt didn’t linger in the restaurant any longer than necessary and was back in the car and on the road within fifteen minutes of his arrival.

Back on the 101, Colt continued northward still not knowing where he was actually headed. After several miles, he glanced to the left and out past the darkened beaches. The lights from the off shore oil rigs made for an impressive sight on a clear night such as this was. The wide open road and beautiful scenery were exactly what Colt needed.

It was close to 10:00 when he found himself approaching the small city of Santa Maria. To the east he spotted a little motel on a hill just off the freeway. That’s perfect, Colt thought as he steered the car up the hill.

After checking in at the front desk Colt wandered down the dimmed hallway and found the small room. The quasi-burger he had eaten for dinner was sitting heavy on his stomach and he really needed to stretch his legs. The time of day never really mattered to Colt, he just did what needed to be done when it needed to be done. Given that mentality, a ten o’clock run in an unfamiliar place was not something out of the ordinary for this private investigator. His bag was packed lightly, but the one thing Colt never left behind was a pair of running shoes. In a matter of minutes, Colt was dressed in a white long sleeved t-shirt, black shorts and his trusty Nikes.

The cool evening air of the Central Coast was refreshing. The temperatures were hovering in the low 40s and a thin layer of fog had rolled in from the beach. The yellow lights in the parking lot created a majestic glow as the cool moist air circled the warm bulbs. It was strangely beautiful yet eerie at the same time. There were no street lights on the roads in this area so Colt flicked on his head mounted LED running light. This didn’t provide a ton of light, but it would be enough to prevent him from tripping in the darkness. As a matter of habit, Colt always ran with his iPhone in one hand, not because he feared an emergency, but because he always wanted to be available in case the office needed him. On this night, he almost left the phone behind, but for some reason, he still felt more comfortable with it.

After about two miles he was ready to turn around and head back to the motel. Glancing off into the distance, he could just barely make out a stop sign. Setting that as his goal he eased up a bit in anticipation of a u-turn. Just as he was about to round the sign, a noise caught Colt’s attention. He glanced to his right and saw an empty field sparsely populated with low-lying bushes and shrubs. Shadows confused the image in front of him, but he stopped and studied the landscape. As he did, he heard it again. It was faint and sounded like a moan. Using his light, he scanned the roadside until the silhouette of a body was illuminated about ten feet beside him.

Colt immediately flew into action. He quickly made his way to the woman’s side and began assessing her situation. She was badly beaten and barely conscious. Thankful that he hadn’t left his phone behind, he called 911 and tried to talk to the battered woman to keep her awake.

Results
The woman is a fellow private investigator who was ambushed on a stakeout and dumped. - 14%
The woman is Mandy Miles (See chapter 1) - 14%
The woman was the victim of a seemingly random crime, which later turns out to be not so random. - 71%