I Hired a PI - the conclusion

 By Catherine Dilts

My previous post on Type M for Murder (11/5/24) described the events that led to hiring a real-life private investigator. Quick recap – when my father passed, we needed to find his estranged step-son (let’s call him James, to protect his obviously highly treasure privacy), who was included in the will.

June 25 - First contact from me: “Hello Steve, I mentioned to you that my family is trying to locate my deceased father's stepson. I was under the impression the amount of money we were inheriting was not worth hiring someone to track him down. Now my brother says we really need to find James, because the inheritance is too much to stick in a sock drawer in the event the guy resurfaces. My question to you - is it possible to hire you to locate a missing person? What's the process and estimated cost?”

We wouldn’t have required a PI if there hadn’t been paranoia and suspicion on both ends of our search. I was concerned about contacting the wrong people with a “you’ve inherited money” message. James was reluctant about replying to the promise of money if he would confirm his identity.

Steve Pease, aka author Michael Chandos, is also a Type M for Murder contributor. As a licensed private investigator, Steve knows plenty about finding people. But first, the bad news: Steve was retiring from the PI business. Followed by the good news: Steve was willing to take a look.

June 25 - Steve replied, “depending on how much you know about James, birth date, locations of things, any previous contacts, maybe I can find him… Do you have photos, SSAN, former locations?... What do you know about him? Does he know who his father was? Does he want to be found? Things like that….”

James had distanced himself from family, including the one person I hoped knew where he was: his aunt. She hadn’t heard from him in over two years. My brother’s law office paralegal had cobbled together a little info. I gathered what I had learned with my amateur sleuthing. We were thin on data.

After a call to my brother, we realized we knew pathetically little about this guy who was part of our family. I felt guilty I hadn’t made more of an effort to connect with him. But we were adults when our father and James’ mother married. James had been an unruly teen in high school. There just hadn’t been the time, or I suppose the desire, to forge relationships.

June 28 - I couldn’t decipher whether Steve was frustrated or amused when he emailed, “Literally ANYTHING you can remember, from all the basic history, and then any tidbit of content, places, other people that may know him. Circumstances - how did you lose him?” 

As a writer, I love stories. And the contorted family history made for a story I could tell. After wrenching the memories from my reluctant brain, I typed up a page of everything I knew about James, my father and his wife, and the estrangement.

July 1 - “Hi Steve, This might be a little rambling, but I put together what I have. I can try to dig for more info if this isn't helpful. It should be highly entertaining, though.”

July 3 - To which Steve responded, “This is a great model for a Southern Murder Mystery potboiler.”

James’ mother was a Louisiana girl who desperately craved to be a Southern Belle. My father was a Midwestern guy thrilled to attract the attention of a much younger woman. When James came out of the closet, although my father accepted him, his own mother cut him out of her life.

July 12 – Over two weeks into the investigation, Steve attended a PI seminar. He presented our missing step-brother case for a brief group discussion. Steve told me we needed hard data, like James’ Social Security number. I began to worry we’d be unable to locate James.

Steve sounded less optimistic, too. “Maybe James is no longer in Colorado. I did not find him on any prison inmate listings.”

That is how little I knew my step-brother. I had entertained the idea he might be in jail. Or living under a bridge.

July 13 - Steve sent me this. “He either moved or did a serious drop-out.” Again, Steve requested James’ exact birth date and social security number.

Later that same day, James responded to an email from Steve. At the same email address my brother had used to contact him. Coming from Steve Pease of Glass Key Investigations LLC must have convinced James the attempt to contact him was legit.

Steve asked James to provide some details to prove he was actually our James. The info was not in my father’s online obituary. Only family knew this stuff. Yes, this James definitely was the right guy.

After confirming my brother was able to make contact with James, Steve closed our case. He sent us a report on his methodology and the results of the search. James really didn’t want to be found, but now he seems happy to be in contact with his step-siblings, on his own terms.

July 14 - “We are lucky a simple route found him,” Steve reported. “I queried top level county databases and the Colorado Secretary of State's databases, and was about to dig deeper. This email contact was lucky and it eliminates the lengthier inquiry, and it is cheaper.” 

My family is all about cheap. So, a happy ending? A family healed? Sort of. We’ve reached out to James. He knows our email addys. It’s on him if he wants to try to establish relationships at this late date.

If you need to hire a PI to find your own missing relative, here’s what I learned. Life is not a Hallmark movie. The best ending might be simply to acknowledge everyone is alive and not in jail. Another lesson learned – keep track of people. Don’t let them fall off the grid entirely. Otherwise, you might end up paying a PI to dig up info you could have known all along.

What It's Like to Hire a PI

 By Catherine Dilts

This summer, I hired a Private Investigator. The experience had little in common with what I’ve seen in movies or read in novels. This being a rather mundane missing person’s case, there were no late night stake-outs and absolutely no gun play.

Me, being the customer, didn’t fit the classic mold of a glamorous redhead puffing on an opera-length cigarette holder with gloved fingers. I was wearing baggy sweats when I contacted the PI via email, and my mousey hair was pulled back into a messy bun with a cheap plastic clip.

Nope, no glamour. Just my family needing to locate a person none of us had heard from in years. My father passed away in March. His second wife preceded him in death by several years. In his will, Dad left a bequest to his estranged step-son. Before my brother, the executor of the estate, could finish the legal paperwork, we needed to find our step-brother. Let’s call him “James.”

Step One: DIY investigation. We began with my brother requesting a paralegal in his law office attempt to track down James. That quickly reached a dead end. My brother decided since I write mysteries, I could find our step-brother. So I tried. I started by contacting James’ aunt. She hadn’t heard from him in a couple years.

I was very concerned about throwing out a “you’ve inherited money” message to potential strangers. Aren’t we warned constantly to beware the dangers of the internet and social media? In fact, this may be why my brother’s and my efforts failed. Would you open an email or respond to a social media message promising you an unexpected, if modest, reward? What if the wrong person answered? Would I end up with creepy stalkers demanding money from me?

Step Two: Hiring a PI. I told my brother I was uncomfortable with the idea of contacting sketchy potential strangers, and my efforts to connect with who I thought was the real James went unanswered. But I did know a Private Investigator from my mystery writing group. Anxious to close the estate, my brother gave me the go-ahead.

Enter Steve Pease, aka author Michael Chandos, our own Type M for Murder contributor, and an honest-to-goodness licensed PI. He quoted me a retainer price my brother approved. We hoped the case wouldn’t become too lengthy or complicated. 

My first lesson in hiring a PI was that the more info you already have, the less time it will take to track down the missing person. Less time = less money. I did mention the bequest was modest? My family didn’t want to spend our entire inheritance trying to find James. “Oh great, we found you. But we spent what all of us would have inherited on locating you. Oops. Our bad.”

Thankfully, we had some info. His last known couple of addresses and phone numbers. His mother’s sisters’ contact info. What we didn’t have was James’s social security number or employer. We were reasonably certain he was in Colorado. If he was still alive. Or maybe (sorry James) in prison.

The hunt began.

Do Private Investigators Carry Guns?

 By Steve Pease, retired PI and writer

  Genre fiction is beset with clichés. Medical shows on TV, cop shows, PI shows. The tropes come with the territory and readers won’t feel entertained if some clichés aren’t there. Here’s one of the biggest PI clichés.

   You know the scene. The PI confronts the bad guy and a gunfight breaks out. The PI has a 38 Colt snubbie on his belt or under his arm; the bad guy has a 45 Auto or a machine gun. I guess that evens things out. The bad guy takes one in the arm or shoulder, but the PI is seldom hit.

   In reality, PIs seldom carry anything lethal, maybe pepper spray.

   What do I do? I have training in firearms, from the military and civilian companies, and I practice at a civilian range where I shoot 25-50 rounds each from several different guns quarterly. I carry a knife in my coin pocket, sometimes others secretly here and there. I have a SIG 9mm and a Beretta 22 off-body, ie not in a shoulder holster or on my belt. They’re in bags I’m carrying. Both are automatics. My 38 Special snubnose revolver (of course I have one!) is at home because it’s too big to carry. I have a coin purse that makes a fine blackjack. Sometimes I carry the small Beretta in an ankle holster or in an in-pants hidden holster. I have a million-volt stunner and some old bear spray – in the bags.

   I meet my clients in a non-advertised office and I seldom carry a weapon when investigating. My assisted-opening folding pocket knife is mostly a tool. I work at my computer where guns aren’t needed and I go to the Courthouse where guns aren’t allowed.

   I have been threatened by Subjects, pissed-off husbands, neighbors, and strangers. My fault for being discovered (burned) in the first place. I’m not sure I want to conduct investigations at a location where I might need the guns. I don’t take jobs in bad neighborhoods at night, but maybe during the day. I don’t drive a car with anonymous plates, but that’s a thought for the future. My office has no sign on the building or on my door. I have a Colorado Concealed Carry Permit. I sometimes carry because of the mass shootings you read about, not because of my business. I am in the information business.

   A PI has NO special legal privileges to carry a gun. Even PIs who have retired Police credentials have to understand they no longer are cops and can’t pull their gun to intimidate or influence perps. The court can take their guns away. And their license.

   PI specialties that call for weapons, like Executive Protection ie bodyguard, are Very specialized. In New Mexico, it requires a special armed PI license, proof of expensive training, and Very Expensive insurance. I had a guy with a problem that wanted protection during a financial transaction. He thought that should cost $100. “You guys do that, right?” I declined, saying I wasn’t trained or licensed and, anyway, the fee would be $5000+.

   Guns are good in fictional action scenes, but I usually use a non-lethal alternative. The alternative works well in real life too.