Chapter 19

Well, I found the person who had hired a private investigator to look into my life. I had to take steps myself to get to the bottom of the issue, but it was quicker than letting the AI try to find everything electronically. That's a fine way of getting information, providing the people investigating you are computerized, and are on line. These people weren't.

Still, after days at a stand still, I took action myself. I back trailed the investigators and discovered where they worked, then I simply went into the office in the "almost there", and did my thing there when the office was closed.

It took me only a short time to find the person who was interested in me, address wise. I took a road trip to Chicago, as that's where she lived. Her name was Samantha Borders, and she was in her late forties.

She lived in an upscale neighborhood, and seemed to have money. She was a slim and energetic woman, who exercised every morning at a Vic Tanney. Then she went to an office, where she was an upper level manager for a consultant firm. Now why would she be interested in me?

I decided confrontation was the only way to get an answer. I had made sure she was home, first; and then I went up to her door, and rang the bell. The door opened to reveal a person dressed in a housekeeper's uniform.

"May I help you?" she asked in a slight accent.

"Yes, I was wondering if I might see Ms. Borders? We seem to have mutual interests. I might be presumptuous; but I thought it best to get together, and present a united front," I replied, leaving the maid to draw her own conclusions.

"Please, follow me," she said.

She led me to an actual sitting room. No tv, no electronic media, just an old fashioned sitting room. I had a short wait and then Ms. Borders came into the room.

Ms. Borders came in and spotted me as I rose. She stopped. Her eyes widened. I thought I saw a moment of panic, but she covered it nicely.

"Yes? May I help you?" She asked me, playing it cool.

"Ah, Ms. Borders. You know who I am, I am sure. You have had a private detective agency following me for sometime, now. Call me Ben," I replied and held out my hand to shake hers.

She hesitantly put her hand forward and I shook it firmly and let go.

"Please sit, Ma'am. The question is, what can I do for you? You have had a firm following me for some time. While I have nothing to hide, I do find it a bit annoying," I told her as we seated ourselves.

"I must say, this is somewhat surprising," she told me in a soft voice, still unsure of herself.

"Might I ask why you're so intent on investigating me?" I asked her curiously.

"Yes," she answered slowly, "perhaps the beginning would be the best place to begin."

She got up and went to the door. She asked someone to bring the photo album from on top of her dresser, in her room; and to bring coffee, also. She looked at me, eyebrows raised, and I nodded acceptance. She ordered coffee for two, a complete service.

"A number of years ago, I lived in St. Louis County. Mostly from the time I was four, until I went to college. When I was twelve years old, my mother and father gave me a great birthday party and I received presents. The best present I got, was to go to the drive in. This was back in 1975.

"My brother took me to the drive in. I was armed with some money and my new instamatic camera. We went to the drive in that was located on 270, and West Florissant. We arrived early, and I was out taking pictures with my new camera.

"Close to dusk, my brother found me. He was raving about a car he had seen. I asked where it was thinking I could take a picture of it for him with my camera. He pointed it out, and it was a very unique car, to say the least. It was dark colored, and had slightly tinted windows, but the most curious thing about it were the two occupants," she paused.

About this time, that same 'housekeeper' came in, carrying a tray with coffee cups a bowl of sugar, and a creamer. There was also a small photo album, set to the side of the tray.

Ms Borders picked up the album, turned several pages, and then stopped. She handed it to me. I found myself looking at pictures of my car, several of me, and one or two of Courtney.

"You can imagine my surprise when I saw this very woman in a hotel, in downtown St. Louis, when I went there on a business trip. To make matters even more confusing to me, you showed up a short time later, and had a meal with her. I followed you two out. Imagine my surprise, when I saw you get into the very car depicted in that photograph," she said with a gesture, before taking up her coffee cup and sipping it.

"So? What's that got to do with me?" I asked with a sinking feeling in my stomach.

"How is it, that someone of your apparent age can be in 1975, and then reappear thirty years later with the same girl as in the photo, and neither of you have aged a day?" she asked with wonder.

I thought a minute. Damn! I had definitely not gone to any drive in movie with Courtney. I wondered if this was something I would do in the future?

"I can't tell you anything, Ms. Borders. Would you do me a favor and just forget these pictures?" I asked her curiously.

"I don't think so. You present a quandary that I need to solve, for my own peace of mind," she said and took another sip of her coffee.

I drank a bit of mine and thought furiously. Option one, I could disappear her into the 'between' and the problem would be solved. Option two, I could make up a story and give her a song and dance. Option three, I had several Id's. All were very official looking, and real, and I could warn her she was treading on security matter. I went with option three.

I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out a perfectly forged, but valid Homeland Security ID, and handed it to her.

"Ma'am, you don't want to get involved in this at all. Feel free to check the validity of my credentials. I believe you will find one of our offices here in Chicago and they can vouch for my authenticity," I said sipping more coffee.

"Just a word to the wise... in this day and age, the government frowns on people spying on their agents. I am not going to strong arm you, threaten you, kill you, or anything. But, you should know that the weight of the federal government will come down on you, if you don't let this go," I said.

She dialed the phone that was next to her. She talked for several minutes, read off some numbers from the ID, and then listened. She hung up and passed me my ID folder, which I placed back into my jacket pocket.

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