***
As I dug into my steak burger and herbed fries, I grew frustrated with myself. Sure this would probably go a lot smoother if I could combine Jeremiah’s computer skills with my own, but I didn’t need him. I could do this without him and without getting myself killed, so why in the hell was I waiting around for him?
I paid the check and went back to my room. It was time to fight back and for a girl like me that meant gathering intel. People left all kinds of shit about themselves out in the world, particularly on the Internet, especially politicians eager to prove they were as normal as the average Joe.
They rarely were, and I knew Governor Blaise of Florida was far from what his voters might consider normal. Bank statements, web browsing history, photo searches and reverse photo searches yielded plenty of information. And that was the easy part.
Cell phone data was even easier, but my favorite source was the credit agencies. They had shitty security and they made it easy to get in, grab what I needed and get the fuck out before anyone even knew I’d been there. It was so easy it made me think of the black hats I knew who pulled in more cash for one job than I sometimes cleared all year. If I was into it, I’d be a very rich woman.
Instead, I was caught up with some bullshit that was bound to get me killed.
***
“There’s no need to pay it all today, Miss. I’m sure we could get you financing with favorable rates.” This guy was my second least favorite guy on the planet, the one who flashed that smarmy smile while trying to convince me he wasn’t screwing me over.
“How about I pay cash in full today and you knock a few grand off the top?” He wasn’t the only one who could negotiate, but I was much better at it.
“That’s not going to happen. My boss won’t go for it.” Steepled hands and dimpled smile meant to disarm me only put me more on alert.
“Then get him in here and let me explain how this works, Kyle.” I was annoyed and though it wasn’t all his fault, it was enough of his fault that I felt no guilt about taking it all out on him. I’d been in Vegas for two days now and Jeremiah hadn’t reached out, which meant I was wrong about him. And I hated being wrong. “Please. Look I want to buy this camper and drive it off the lot today, but your price is too high and there are at least three thousand miles on it already.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” Kyle left me alone, probably called me a few bitches under his breath while he either wasted time or actually went to get approval from his boss.
It gave me time to think, something I’d been doing a lot of lately.
As a kid, Jeremiah would have jumped right into the middle of things to help me out, but this older, buffer, military-biker Jeremiah? A totally different man altogether. And when I woke up that morning, I knew I was on my own. So I’d put my bike in a storage facility and took a bus to Sahara where there were dozens of car dealerships. If this Kyle character couldn’t get me a deal, someone else would.
I had plenty of cash and I was ready to go off the grid. At least by all appearances. By the time Kyle returned with the paperwork and the sale was complete—five thousand dollars cheaper—I was tired, hungry and ready to settle in for the night. But I needed provisions so I could stay low-key for a while.
Armed with a brand new to me 2018 Winnebago Spirit camper, I drove to the nearest grocery store and stocked up on pretzels, chips, mustard and diet root beer, snacks I’d eaten since I was a kid. With my router and a parking pass at one of the casinos on the old part of the Strip, I was ready to get to work.
***
I set my laptop on the dinette, opened it up to connect to the encrypted voice chat and grabbed a root beer.
“Hey babe, whatcha got for me?”
I smiled at my friend Peaches and her over the top greeting. “Hey Peaches, did you get that photo?”
“Sure did. It’s going through a face recognition query as we speak but there aren’t enough points of comparison and that photo is grainy as shit. But I have a guy looking into that ink on his hand. Too bad it’s just a partial. Got any extra footage for me?”
I wanted like hell to give it to her, but I couldn’t. “It’s best for all of us if no one else sees that image.”
Peaches went quiet, deadly so. “Damn girl, what are you into? I thought you didn’t fuck with that black hat shit.”
“I don’t. It’s just … fucked up for now. I’m offline but you can find me in the usual ways.”
“Stay safe, babe. Love ya.”
“Back atcha, Peach.”
If there was anyone in this world I considered a friend, it was Peaches. We met as cocky sixteen year olds with massive chips on our leather clad shoulders, assigned to do community service teaching old people how to use computers. She’d hacked into her girlfriend’s computer, at least that was the story she told. The rest of the story, the real part, was that her girlfriend was the Deputy Headmistress of her private school. I was there for giving a few nasty bullies lower grades, but the school called it hacking. Semantics.
I needed to keep Peaches as clear of this as possible. Given what I saw at Jeremiah’s place I probably shouldn’t involve him either.
That meant I didn’t need to stay in Vegas proper. I could find a more remote campsite. With privacy. And one exit.
The first thing I would do as soon as I got settled? Look into Jeremiah and his club.