He’s not a cop. He’s not a private investigator, or a bounty hunter. The only rules he plays by are his own, and he doesn’t take American Express.
Meet Nicholas Colt: Pool hustler, bass angler, Runaway Recovery Agent. If all other avenues fail, and if you have cash, he’ll bring your kid home safely. Guaranteed.
He’s having a damn good day. Before sunrise, he catches and filets a few fish for breakfast. Later, he snags a thousand-dollar retainer from a desperate young woman named Leitha Ryan, whose fifteen-year-old sister Brittney, it seems, has run away from home. The siblings were orphaned at a young age, and Leitha is now Brittney’s legal guardian. Leitha doesn’t want the police involved, fearful Brittney will be sent back to foster care.
Colt figures to wrap the case tomorrow, in a few hours tops. He does a little research, but spends most of the day in bed with his girlfriend Juliet.
He’s weeks behind on his car payment, his home phone has been disconnected, and Juliet constantly gripes about his living quarters--a 1964 Airstream Safari travel trailer. He’s forty-five, living payday to precarious payday, but all-in-all life is good. Not bad for a Tuesday, anyway.
Rule #34 in Nicholas Colt’s Philosophy of Life: If you have a good Tuesday, Wednesday is going to be a bitch.
When a runaway girl has a forbidden boyfriend, she’s usually easy to locate. Find the boyfriend, find the girl.
Not this time...
Thoughts?