Blue Wing, LLC

 

With Helena eight miles high or so over the Midwestern United States in her Learjet 31 heading to White Plains, New York, Griff pulled his Norton Commando out of the hangar and rode downtown to the Albany County Public Library. He parked himself at an unoccupied computer and began searching in an incognito session of Chrome.

Google returned fifty-one million, three hundred thousand items for “Blue Wing LLC.” Griff ignored the home inspection company in Idaho and the pet supply company in Kansas. He checked the websites of a consulting firm in Boulder, a freight company in Oklahoma and a property management firm in South Carolina, but his gut feel told him those were dry holes.

Only fifty-three million, two hundred ninety-nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety-five to go.

On a hunch, Griff went to the Kentucky Secretary of State web site and searched there. A Blue Wing, LLC, was listed in Pine Hollow. The company had no web site, but it moved immediately to the top of Griff’s list. According to Lance’s briefing papers, the first Mrs. Nickolson—Helena’s mother—was born and raised northwest of there in Maysville, Kentucky. Given his strong disinclination towards coincidences, Griff figured a flight plan to the Bluegrass State would be in order, with a stopover in Chicago.

 

***~~~***

 

Lance’s Escalade was parked on the tarmac when Griff taxied the Cirrus up to Atlantic Aviation and shut down where the line boy marshaled him to park.

“Did you call Hannah?” Lance asked when Griff got in the Cadillac. “She’s been asking after you.”

“I did.”

“Hungry for pecan pie, are we?”

“Just dinner. No dessert,” Griff said.

“Yeah. Sure.” Lance gave Griff a skeptical sideways glance as he waited for the security gate to open. “You gonna want to eat something or save your appetite for later?”

“A dog sounds good for now.”

“I know just the place.” Lance pulled out of Atlantic Aviation, drove around the airport, then down Milwaukee Avenue. He pulled into the strip mall behind an old Denny’s building and parked in front of the Dog Walk. He winked at Griff. “A diamond in the rough.”

“As long as they don’t serve MREs.”

“You won’t be disappointed.” Lance punched Griff’s arm hard but didn’t get a reaction. As they went in, he called out, “Hola, Kim.”

“Señor Lance, me alegro de verle de nuevo,” the Korean man behind the blue counter replied fluently.

“Este gringo es mi amigo, Griff.”

“Encantado de conocerlo, señor Griff.” Kim bowed towards Griff.

“Gracias. Y tú también.” Griff waved. He drifted over to the only table in the place and sat down as Lance ordered their lunch.

“Actually, his Spanish is better than his English,” Lance said as he set down their hot dogs. “Chicago style, right?”

“When in Rome…”

‘So, what’s going on?” Lance asked around a mouthful of hot dog dragged through the garden. “You’re not two-timing our very important client, now are you?”

Griff shook him off like a pitcher to a catcher. “I told you, no dessert…This time, anyway.” Griff knew well how his casual on-again off-again relationship with Hannah gnawed at Lance’s unrequited lust for his assistant. He grinned broadly.

Lance closed his eyes and sighed heavily.

“Besides, I want to get to Cincy tonight.”

“Got a date there, too?”

“No, an early morning appointment across the river.”

“Is this on my nickel?” Lance asked.

“You mean Helena’s, right?”

“Just looking out for my client—as usual.”

Griff dug out his wallet. He pulled out a dollar bill and slid it across the table to Lance.

“What’s that?”

“A retainer. Now I'm your client, too.”

“I don't know if it will hold up in court.”

“No worries. That's not where we're headed.”

“Okay.” Lance pocketed the dollar. “But my hourly rate is a bit higher than this. Like five hundred times higher.”

“But it’s full service, right? Privilege and all?”

“Usually I charge extra, but in your case…”

“Not even for another client, right?”

“Helena?”

Griff nodded.

“So, what privileged information are you going to share with your attorney?”

“Blue Wing, LLC. It wasn’t in any of your reports.”

“Should it have been?”

Griff nodded slowly. “Donald Wallace gave it up to me on the promise of total confidentiality. A few days later, he’s dead.”

“And you don’t believe in coincidences.”

Griff shook his head. “And I’m not buying the carjacking angle.”

“Me, neither, too. Mmm.” Lance frowned. “I don’t know how we missed it.”

“Well, here’s how you can make it up to me. Get me an appointment tomorrow with The Leonard Group. Lawyers in Newport, Kentucky. They’re listed as the registered agent of record.”

“Can do. Then what?”

“Then a little side trip to Pine Hollow.”

Lance nodded. “But first, a little pecan pie?”

“All work and no play….”

“You know, Hannah and Helena get along famously. They have ever since my first sit down with Helena.”

“She knows, doesn’t she?” Griff asked.

“They always do, my friend. Always do.”

Griff’s shoulders slumped. He shook his head. “Damnit.”

“As your attorney, I advise you to begin drinking heavily.”

 

***~~~***