jaylar
The Client was willing to spend the money, so I and Jesse flew to New York City. On arrival at JFK we rented a car, drove to a hotel, where we had booked one of those two room suites.
We had arrived late in the afternoon. This would give us time ‘set up base’ relax and readjust. In the morning we drove up to Kian’s parent’s house.
We spoke with them and learned nothing. Just as was said on the phone, each month they received a cheque and each month they sent the cheque to a Post Office on Canal Street in New York City.
The father, a tall man, rather handsome in an angry way, said how he wanted to stop sending the cheques to force Kian to come home, but the mother, a small sad woman was against it. So, at the end of each month, they sent the cheque received from the rental of the house Kian owned, and was attempting to sell, to the P.O. Box.
I told her we would find her son, and Jesse and I left the nice house, to the car and began the drive back to New York City. We didn’t reach until past four and decided to hit the Post Office tomorrow.
We went for a meal, took in a Broadway show, then to the Hotel.
I was having a bad feeling about this.
