Chapter Two- Continued Blog Date 050106

Iowa City 18April05 - 1045

Calhoun had spent the last two hours doing further research trying to unlock the Byzantine maze that had shrouded Carmondii's movements dating back prior to Indigo Research Corporation. This was hardly the first time that Calhoun had conducted such research. The cabinet contained several folders with names of Carmondii-owned entities or NSTF code-named operations that had shed precious little light on what was becoming for Calhoun (and the whole NSTF) a serious professional challenge.

This morning's effort had actually been mildly enjoyable to Calhoun. About once a month, he had done simple internet searches on Carmondii, starting with Google and then branching out based on any new trails that may have developed since his prior search. Calhoun was amazed at the voracious appetite of the entertainment media at all levels. If there was a Hollywood party or a New York cultural event, mainstream print and video enterprises had details of the celebrities or notables in attendence within minutes. The bloggers would jump in and on-line one-upsmanship would spread like wildfire.

The kind of details that emerged from these more frivilous accountings were not often critical to the investigation. However, Calhoun had learned a number of interesting factoids about Carmondii through this somewhat trailer-trash methodology. Good 'ole Anthony had a strong preference for full-bodied Tuscan red wines. He drove fast when not being whisked along in one of his luxury limos, and had a string of tickets in the Bay Area from cops who didn't like his attitude. He liked the social limelight and would stage press conferences for his frequent gifts to the Carmondii Education Foundation which benefited numerous academic and health research entities. And like most men in powerful positions, there was no shortage of beautiful women following his paths.

Last night, Carmondii had been seen and photographed at the Lakers' game in LA, in a court-side seat just down from Jack Nicholson. There was a stunning blond sitting next to him. The posting on BloggingLALights had her name as Samantha Lodgerton, age 31, modle/actress, with a Newport Beach address. Ms. Lodgerton had the same look as the last three companions who had been on Carmondii's arm over the last six months. "I wonder what happened to Bimbos 1, 2, and 3?" mused Calhoun. In a moment of self-interest, he thought to himsef, "Glad the Lakers lost. Never liked Showtime. Then or now."

Other than the name and address of Carmondii's latest feminine diversion, Calhoun's search had yielded no new relevant information on the man or the case. He was certain that there was a timeline event that would occur in the next few weeks, but he had been stalled since Christmas on a trail that was now almost stone cold. He knew that the connection with Carmondii and Singh was the key. Their history was too intertwined. And there was way too much money at stake representing the interests of Indigo, Cyberware, and possibly Equity Funding Group, the venture capital firm that had been mentioned in the email.

Calhoun made a troubling decision. He picked up his cell phone and called Holly Logan. She answered on the third ring.

"Hello."

"Hi Holly," this is Frank. "Are you free to talk?"

"Frank. What a surprise. Sure. What's up?" said Holly.

"Well," hedged Frank, "I think that I want to ask Melanie out for dinner tonight. What do you think?"

Holly was totally caught off guard. "Frank, you know Donovan introduced me to you, what, seven or eight years ago? In all times that you have called me since then, you have never called for anything except to ask me where Donovan was, or why we were late. This is a little off script."

Frank grimaced. Oops. Maybe the call-the-friend approach was a little obvious for his style. "I guess I was hoping for a more encouraging response, Holly," said Frank, grimacing some more. "Really. What do you think?"

"I love 'ya Frank, but you are truely an idiot," said Holly. "She's really too nice for a Cro Magnon sort like you, who has NOOO functioning brain matter!"

"Say what?" asked Frank. "Do I detect some sarcasm there?"

"Look, Frank. Everyone in Cedar Rapids and Iowa City has been trying to reach whatever those cells are between your ears for the last year for you to ask her out. Are you actually that dense?"

"That's a bit harsh," was all that Frank could offer in response. "Remind me not to call you for a peptalk the next time I have questions about my social life."

"You called me. I call 'em like I see 'em. So are you going to call her? I know that she's not that busy. We were maybe going to do lunch, but I have to go with Donovan the Neanderthal to help him buy a suit for the family thing next week. Do you have her number?"

"Actually, my main reason for calling was to get her number. I didn't realize that I was in for a lecture. I was just making conversation when I asked you what you thought of the idea. Do you know that that Mars and Venus thing is real?" Calhoun was suddenly exhausted.

"Geez, Frank. I was mostly kidding. But I like that sensitive side. So will Melanie." Holly finally gave up the number and rang off saying that she was late for her rendezoux with Donovan.

Calhoun went to the breakroom and took a Coke from the refrigerator. Calling Melanie McDermott was a big step. He had to make sure that the business side of the connection took precedence. He was troubled by the personal feelings that he had developed for her. But the first rule of almost any investigation is to "follow the money." And with no other leads working, Melanie's ties to the Carmondii money tree could no longer be ignored.

He took the final drink from the soda can and dialed.