Chapter 13

While we were crossing the street, I told the guys: “Well, that was a mixed bag. I think he was really frightened when Rock introduced me as Alexis White Owl. His eyes almost bugged out. I thought for a minute he might have a heart attack right in the Denny’s.” I needed to embellish a little for Big Tex, and at the same time, I needed to get some information out to the whole team.

“I got a feeling ... you know, a ‘feeling’?...” I made the air quotes. “There were three other partners in the firm that were involved in hiring the attackers. A woman named Thorn and two brothers named Eisenstat. I think that’s all the senior partners. I’d like to see them all before we leave ... if that’s possible.”

[Lexi, the Thorn woman is in Melbourne on a business trip. She’s due back in two weeks.]

I focused on Big Tex to see what his reaction was. He was thinking: ‘I’ll bet she wants to see who else is involved. I know she’s gotta be close to somebody to get a read on them.’ He was pretty close to the truth.

I started to switch to Rock, but Tex was talking. “Suppose I go up and ask for one of them. I’ll be an oil man from Louisiana that O’Brian Woods said for me to come over for a consult.”

“O’Brian Woods?” I asked. “Who are they?”

“Oh, right. You don’t know all the K Street consulting firms. They are the go-to lobbyists for Big Oil. My story is that I’m going to get called in front of the Senate Commerce Committee, and I’ll need representation. Y’all can be my security and my ‘personal assistant’.” He made air quotes and switched to a Texas accent, which would do for a Louisiana accent. “Cute li’l thang ain’t she?” And he gave Bear an elbow nudge.

He switched back to what he called his Secret Service voice. “All you gotta do,” he said to me, “is have your phone to your ear all the time, and mumble into it. Stand back from me and the lawyer.”

Is that what ‘personal assistants’ do? Hmm.

“Sounds like a plan. When should we do it?”

“Right now.” He looked over his shoulder as a police car came roaring up to the office building. They blocked the street and ran across to the Denny’s. The ambulance stopped in front of the restaurant.

“Go for the men, Tex,” I said.

We strode into the office and rode the elevator up to the 7^th floor. I pulled out my sat-phone as we walked into the luxurious office of Goldberg Eisenstat Partners, LLC. Tex walked up to the receptionist. He turned on his Texas-talk full bore. “I’d laik to meet with Mr. Eisenstat, puh-lease. Tom Whitherspoon.” He whipped a business card out of his breast pocket. Where did THAT come from? “I don’ have an appo’tment, but I was referred he’r by O’Brian Woods. So they shu’d have set it up.”

The receptionist didn’t even bat an eyelash. “Which Mr. Eisenstat is that, sir?”

“Hayll, I don’ know. Which ever one they set me up fer,” drawled Tex. I nodded into my phone, and punched a couple of buttons.

“Just a sec, Mr...” she looked at his card “ ... Whitherspoon.” She punched a button on HER phone, and spoke to (presumably) Eisenstat’s secretary. There was a pause.

“Right this way,” she purred to Tex. We were ushered into a conference room.

In a few moments, an older guy walked in. “Bob Eisenstat,” he held out a hand, which Tex took and gave him a real firm handshake. I listened to the silence of my phone, but zoned out to tap into Eisenstat’s thinking. “My assistant,” he said, gesturing to a young man who would be taking notes.

Tex started his palaver. Eisenstat was thinking ‘Who the hell is this yahoo?’ But he said, “O’Brien Woods called and set up your appointment.”

And then they got seated and Tex went on with whatever story he thought would fly. I planted a thought in Eisenstat’s mind: ‘Wonder what happened with that White Owl woman? Should have heard by now.’

That started a brief flurry of thoughts. ‘That Indian gal who gave us the trouble years back. I’ll have to get to Larry Stone about that.’

I had his mental pattern. I felt sure I’d be able to tap into him again.

I folded up the phone and tapped Mr. Whitherspoon on the shoulder. I whispered into his ear. “O’Brian Woods said they contacted a Mr. Jeremiah Eisenstat. They gave HIM all the info on your case.”

“On realally?” He added an extra syllable in the middle. “Mah assistant, MISS White jes’ reminded me that O’Brian Woods had given all the information to a Jeremiah Eisenstat. I take it you’re his ... father?”

“Elder brother,” he laughed. “Jerry was tied up when you came in. I’ll see if he is free now.”

He thought, ‘Good, I’ll get out of here soon. Jerry’s problem.’ He left the conference room and the note-taker went the other direction.

Soon after, the receptionist came in and offered to get drinks. Tex wanted a bourbon and the girl laughed. I asked for a diet coke. It came in a cut glass goblet that was made to look like crystal.

My phone rang, and I picked it up. It was Bear, and I looked at him. His hand was leaving his phone, still clipped to his belt. I answered it, and murmured into it.

In a couple of minutes, Jeremiah Eisenstat came in, with his own note taker. Tex started his palaver again. I zoned out and concentrated on good ol’ Jerry.

‘I’m supposed to be briefed by O’Brian Woods, and I have no idea who this asshole is,’ he thought. His mind wandered to the patterned thigh highs I was still wearing. Aha! A forty-year old Eisenstat was still in the sex-sex-work-sex mind set. I leaned back against the bookcase, and propped my ass on the shelf. I crossed my legs and that naturally showed some more leg.

Sex-sex-SEX-work. He wasn’t even listening to Tex. Mr. Note-Taker asked a couple of questions.

I mentally planted a thought in Jerry’s mind. ‘I wonder what ever happened to that Indian bitch that cost us so much money?’ That popped another question in his mind. ‘I hope they raped the hell out of her before they off’d her.’ Then he looked at my legs above the thigh highs, and thought of the fun he’d have with his current girlfriend. Which led to several images of him doing various sexual things: to Elaine (the girlfriend), to me, to his secretary, to me and Elaine. His fantasies went on and on.

I wondered if he EVER got out the sex-sex-sex loop.

He was lost in a fantasy. ‘Nice pins on that bitch. She kinda looks like that photo of the Indian slit we gave Larry. You know, the only thing I miss is letting Larry take over hiring those guys we send to kill the bitches. I had a lot of fun with that French Tasty Cake before we threw her off the boat. Stupid tree hugger, and a journalist too. Sure had a nice pussy, though.’ Then he was off into a sexual dream.

I closed the phone and tapped Tex on the shoulder. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but Mr. Elmore is expecting us soon.” Tex made his apologizes and promised to call later this week.

We left. There was no sign of the ambulance or police on the street, when we got back to our rented SUV.