Hardison walked into the brewpub, whistling to himself. He was in a good mood. They had helped another client, he had a great date with Parker, and everything seemed to be going great. Nate said they had another client call, and he was looking forward to helping them out. To top it off, he just got a new cell phone and had upgraded it in his way.
The one downer lately was Eliot; he seemed to have a scowl permanently on his face. And as usual, the hitter told him he didn't want to talk about it. You'd think the man would be happy they had put away Damien Moreau and saved his friend's culinary institute, but nope he was just growling and pissed off the last couple days.
The only indication: he asked him to put a tag on a name so that if anything came upon it, he would know. He wondered who the girl was. He was trying his hardest not to look into it more and respect Eliot's privacy, but it was hard.
He didn't get any indication until their latest case started. The girl that Eliot had him tracking her name came up in their client list. He hadn't had a chance to tell him yet. He set things up with the screens hoping to take him aside before the briefing, but Nate walked in.
"What do we have, Hardison?" He sat down next to Sophie with Eliot to his left and Parker sitting next to him. He put his coffee cup down and motioned for him to start.
Hardison nodded before shooting a look to Eliot, who looked for once distracted. He clicked the button; the screens came to life. "This is Harris Studio's based out of Lexington, Kentucky." He clicked the button again.
"CEO of Harris studio's is Derek Dugan and Frank Berkley. Frank runs the production while Derek runs the money." He clicked the button again.
A picture of the studio came onto the screen. " Last year alone; Dugan brought in two million in sales from his artists. " Hardison turned back to the team.
Nate nodded, "One of his clients, their agent contacted us because of threats made to them by the CEO of the company. They were not getting paid, long hours, unpaid royalties, and stolen publishing."
He indicated to the screen. "And they aren't the first."
Hardison nodded as another picture appeared on the screen.
"This is Julie Jensen... She made a complaint about the practices of the company.
"He clicked the button. "Two months later, she died falling off a stage at one of her concerts...it was ruled accidental, and the venue's fault."
He shook his head as he kept going. He wished he could have talked to Eliot before the briefing. He clicked the other button. "This is John Criston," a picture of a rather rough-looking singer appeared on the screen. "Two number one hits … but all his royalties mysteriously disappeared. he sued..." Hardison hit the button again, "found dead in his hotel room from an overdose of pain pills and alcohol."
He sighed. "He was a recovering alcoholic who had been clean for four years.. but they said he fell off the wagon." He looked at Eliot, who just stared back at him, wondering why Hardison was looking at him. He was stalling; he just did not want to do it this way.
Nate looked at Hardison, "our client's agent called us because she was also threatened, but it hasn't escalated."
Nate nodded to Hardison, wondering why he was delaying it. He motioned again when Hardison didn't move.
Alec looked over at Eliot again before he sighed, clicking the button. "The latest victim by Harris Studio's is Catherine Donnelly." He noticed Eliot tense at the table, " she signed with them six months ago, she sunk all her money into a recording for them. She had been working on her second album when her recording tapes disappeared. They had her working long hours in the studio with little breaks. They owned her publishing, her one record sold, but she saw no money from it. " He could feel the anger and tension in the air. "When she complained to her agent, he brought it to the producer; he brushed him off. When she threatened to find a new contract, they said she owed them 250,000."
He looked over at Eliot. The hitter's hands balled into fists. "Eliot, when she told them she would find a way out of it … they told her if she tried, they'd make sure she'd never record again..."
Eliot's eyes went to hard slits and grabbed his phone, dialing a number the same number he had been trying for the last two days. If she didn't answer this time, he was going to be on the next plane out. "Catherine Elize Donnelly, you better answer," he growled, stalking out of the room, not caring that the others were looking at him.
Nate looked at Hardison, pointing at where Eliot had just left the room. "You care to explain that.." He didn't like not knowing things. He couldn't plan right if he didn't know all the information. Nate gave Hardison a stern look indicating he better let him know everything he knew.
Alec Hardison wasn't afraid of Nate, but he was of Eliot. The man could kill you with a spoon. Yet he knew his friend would need help with this. "Three days ago Eliot asked me to put a tracer on a name... our new client she wasn't our client at the time. He just told me to let him know if anything popped up. Nothing did till now.." he indicated behind him where her picture graced the screen.
Eliot came back, not even fifteen minutes later. "Nate, I am going to be gone a few days." He looked at the screen where her picture still sat. A memory of a happy five-year-old flashed in his mind's eye. "Maybe more." He headed to the closet, where he had a duffle bag stashed with clothing and money. He checked in to make sure everything was there, including his emergency medical kit.
The team watched him as he did this all "wait a minute Nate started to say only for Eliot to cut him off.
"This case is personal," he snapped at him. "You don't like personal cases as they are messy. Well, this case is as personal as you can get." Eliot growled at him. "And I am going."
While Nate and Eliot started to argue with Sophie trying to offer her own opinion on the matter, a notification went off on Hardison's laptop. He headed over to it, hitting a few keys when his eyes widened, shooting a look at Eliot. "HEY..." tried to butt into the argument between them, but neither was listening. "I said, HEY!" He hollered, finally catching their attention.
Grinding his teeth together, Eliot growled, "what Hardison?" There was a pulse in his temple, and he was getting pretty annoyed. He wanted to get on a plane and get out there. Nate arguing with him over going or not was pissing him off. He knew it was a personal case more personal than they knew. He had to get there to make sure she was alright. That he hadn't heard from her in a couple of months was normal. What wasn't normal was that she wasn't answering her phone.
Hardison shook his head while looking at the laptop. He was not stalling no; he wasn't stalling. Shit yeah, he was stalling now that he had their attention. He rubbed a hand over his face. "There was a hit off her name." He licked his lips, looking right at Eliot. "Car accident, they found her car flipped over. She was taken to Lexington Methodist," he kept typing away at the computer again. "No more information than that, but I'll keep looking."
Eliot felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over his head while stabbing him in the stomach with a red hot knife. His hands went into fists, and they could hear the near snarl in his voice. "who..." he growled through his teeth. He wanted names, and he wanted them NOW.
Hardison shook his head, "no information yet, man. I will get it for you..." he looked into his computer and started typing again. He looked up at Eliot, who stood there looking like he was ready to kill someone. "I have you on the next flight out … red eye..." He tossed him an id and the information.
Eliot nodded, "Thanks, man." he fist-bumped with Hardison, "and I am handling this ALONE.," he glared at Nate before heading out of the brewpub. He slammed the door shut and tossed his bag into the truck. "hold on Cat..." he whispered as he started the car. "hold on, darling, I am on my way."