Dani Hayward P.I.: The Joshua Franklin File

Dani Hayward: P.I.

  The Joshua Franklin File

  by

  Ellie Smith

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  The characters in this book are fictional products of the author’s imagination. Resemblance to any persons, either living or dead, or to any specific locations or events is purely coincidental.

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  Chapter 1

  “Who?”

  “She said her name is Dani Hayward.”

  Chief Harold Lindsay scowled down at the paperwork that was scattered across the desk in front of him. How was he going to get his monthly reports finished if he kept being interrupted? "Alright, send her in," he grumbled then slammed the receiver down just as the door to his inner office opened. The slender brunette who stood in the doorway was nothing spectacular to look at. Her non-descript heart-shaped face was free of make-up. Mousy brown hair that was parted in the middle, hung straight to a point several inches below her shoulders. The jeans and dark blue sweatshirt she was wearing were faded and the oversized black handbag she carried had seen better days. Hal Lindsay met the woman's brown gaze. There was something in the depths of it that intrigued the Kensington Heights Police Chief. He motioned to a vacant chair in front of his desk. "What can I do for you Miss Hayward?"

  "It's not what you can do for me Chief Lindsay," the woman replied before perching on the edge of the chair. She sat the handbag upright on the floor beside her chair. "It's what I can do for you."

  The police chief's bushy gray eyebrows met above discerning blue eyes. "I don't understand."

  Dani Hayward extracted a thin black wallet from her hip pocket, flipped it open then laid it on the desk amid the stacks of papers. "I'm new to your city. I've rented an office in the Schwartz Building."

  The Chief studied the Private Investigator's identification card with a scrutinizing gaze. "We already have an overabundance of Private Investigation firms in Kensington Heights Miss Hayward."

  "Not that specialize in the area I do."

  "Oh?" brought his eyebrows and gaze upward skeptically. "What area is that?"

  "I specialize in unsolved police cases, particularly those that involved homicide."

  "I see." Hal Lindsay leaned back in his chair. Kensington Heights was fast becoming the most infamous city in the state for unsolved crimes. Even though his detective division did their share of solving cases there was always a percentage that ended up at the wrong end of the proverbial dead end street. That number was growing each year. However, Dani Hayward did not need to know that. Lindsay shifted his focus back on the brunette. "What makes you think we have any unsolved cases?"

  "Come now, Chief. I’ve seen the latest crime statistics.”

  Dani Hayward had obviously done her homework. But the fact still remained, she was a P.I.; little more than a too-nosey civilian in Chief Harold Lindsay's book. "Alright," he admitted uneasily. "So we’ve got a couple of unsolved cases. But I can't open those files to you, they're police property."

  "You could if you gave me access."

  She was cutting him off at every turn. Harold Lindsay was not used to that, especially from a P.I. "What do you get out of this? You must know we don't pay to have our files dissected by an outsider."

  "Reimbursement can come in many forms," the woman relayed in a tone that sent the Chief's eyebrows downward. "The satisfaction of knowing the guilty party has been brought to justice is more than enough payment."

  An odd way of looking at it for a P.I. but one not unfamiliar to the man who had worked his way up through the ranks of the small town police department. It had been his reason for choosing a law enforcement career. "Do you have a specific case in mind?"

  Her head swung. "If your department has exhausted every possible way of solving the case then it's acceptable to me."

  Hal Lindsay frowned inwardly. What was it about this woman that intrigued him? He studied the brown eyes again and saw the same glimmer that had first caught his attention when he had seen her standing in the doorway. It was almost as if she knew something he didn't. "How long have you been interested in this specific area of investigation Miss Hayward?" he asked with more than idle curiosity.

  "My identification states that I have been a private detective for ten years." The woman's tapered eyebrows knitted into a discerning frown. "Which, I am sure, was one of the things you noticed when you were memorizing the information on it." Dani rose and picked up her wallet. She pulled a business card from it and tossed the white rectangle on the desk before she picked up her handbag. "There's my card. My address and phone number are on it." She strode to the door and pressed her hand onto the doorknob before glancing over her shoulder. "When you decide you want some of your oldest cases solved and the good name of Kensington Heights restored to what it once was, give me a call." Tapered brows descended in silent warning. "But don't wait too long. Yours aren't the only unsolved cases out there." She left the office before Lindsay could respond.

  Harold Lindsay stared at his closed office door as he wondered what made Dani Hayward think she could solve cases his own homicide division had not been able to unravel. He looked at the business card and realized what it was that had caught his interest. There was an air of authority about her. She was very sure of herself, and of her ability. "Maybe too sure," he muttered as he reached for the phone.

  The phone on the other end of the line was answered after only one ring. "Davis."

  "Chuck, this is Hal Lindsay."

  "Well," the voice on the other end of the phone drawled. "How long has it been?"

  "Three years," the Chief gave the answer he had only seconds earlier determined himself. "Since I called you about the Hutchins’ case."

  "Right. How'd that turn out?"

  "He got twenty to life."

  "Good. I'm glad the jury saw through his story."

  "Chuck," Lindsay switched tracks. "I need a favor."

  "Name it."

  "Could you run a check on a P.I. for me?"

  "You think you got a bad apple?"

  "Nah, I just want some information." Chuck Davis did not need to know the real reasons for checking on the newest Private Investigator in Kensington Heights. "For my records," he added as an afterthought.

  "What's the name?"

  Lindsay relayed the information he had seen on the woman's ID card.

  "Got it. I'll check it out and get right back to you."