The Tell-Tale Con Read Online Free PDF Page A

here and ordered a burger.  It was his stomach lining. 
    When the waitress was gone, Harrison turned to me.  “You don’t have to help me, you know.  I’m…I feel bad about coming over.  If I’d have known that Private Ike was gone, I never would have.”
    â€œReally, it doesn’t matter.  I embarrassed myself on the phone with your mom too, it’s all good.”
    Confusion flashed before he smiled.  “That wasn’t my mom.  It was…well, I guess it was my step-grandmother.  I think.  She’s my step-mom, Kanako’s, mother.  She’s visiting from Japan.  I never met her before yesterday, and I can’t say her name at all, no matter how many times she tells me.  It sounds like ‘My Sharona’ to me so that’s what I call her in my head.”
    I smiled, too, surprised I was allowing myself to become so engaged in the conversation.  I had no idea what hold Harrison had over me in this situation, but I wasn’t certain I liked it at all.  Yesterday I would have said that Harrison Poe was my lab partner and wouldn’t have been able to give much more than that.  Now I was irritatingly compelled to solve his problems, merely because I knew I could.  Well, and for the two thousand dollars he would have paid anyway.  Money that would keep Mom out of jail or keep us from running again. 
    I pulled the plastic card Private Ike had left behind in our offices and slapped it down on the table.  It was yellow and lumpy and peeling at the edges.
    He glanced down at it.  “What is this?” 
    I took a deep breath.  “It’s Private Ike’s rates.  He left it behind when he left.  Look, I wasn’t kidding yesterday when I said your demon hunt is a scam.  And it sounds like a good one.  If there’s one thing I know, it’s liars.  I’m not a licensed detective, but frankly I’m guessing Private Ike probably wasn’t either, considering.  And at least you know that I won’t call the tabloids.”
    He looked back at the card and then to me.  “Are you offering your services under the same conditions as Private Ike’s ?”  He said it like he had no opinion of that, and I was relieved to hear at least that much.  If he’d acted like it was the dumbest plan he’d ever heard I’d have packed up and left without hesitation. 
    â€œA hundred bucks an hour, twenty hour minimum.  I’ll figure this out, just as well as anyone else could.”  I felt a little twinge asking for the money, but I needed it, and I reminded myself the cash was the only reason I was doing this thing. 
    He cocked his head to the side and regarded me for a long time.  So long that I started to get uncomfortable and considered looking away.  However, that would have indicated weakness, something I would never do.  Finally, he sat back in his seat.  “Fine.  I’ll pay the whole twenty hours up front.  If you incur expenses we’ll deal with that part later.”  He pulled out his iPhone.  “What’s your bank routing and account number?  I’ll do an automatic transfer.” 
    I didn’t use the bank account.  I would just pull the money out later today.  Not just because I needed to pay Mr. Pete before both my parents ended up in prison.  I didn’t trust banks.  But I could see the logic in what he wanted to do, and the thought of all that money was enough to overwhelm my natural trepidation.  I waited until he was in his account and then took the phone and entered my information myself.  He didn’t seem to care one way or another. 
    Once that was done he returned the phone to his pocket and fixed me with another expressionless stare.  “So, what now?”
    â€œFirst we talk.  Tell me about this ‘demon’.  It’s easy