“Some people have dull bubbles,” the kid complained as the elevator took them down.
“Not everyone is as interesting as we are,” Evie said with a laugh. She produced an old-fashioned flip phone from her pocket. “Mr. Charles said Marlene gave this to him in case anything happened to her. Oddly, he didn’t seem to think dying counted, until Stacey got tied up.”
“He was probably using it for free,” Jax said cynically. “Does that thing even hold contact numbers?”
“It does. It’s actually a very nice little device. Reuben will be happy. Check for security cameras when we step off.” She exited the elevator, shoving the phone back in her pocket.
A good security system would have had cameras in the elevator. Jax didn’t see any. He only noted one in the lobby. It wouldn’t take much to enter the front door, sign in at the desk, enter the elevator and pull on hoods... He stopped at the desk and checked the guest register, left open for anyone to see. Using his camera pen, he snapped a photo of the current page, then signed them out. Most people didn’t bother with that step, he noticed. The home had no idea if guests had left or not. That was a safety issue.
“Where’s Roark? “ Jax demanded of Reuben when they reached the van.
“He went in the back door with a few toys. Tell me this case is worth the effort because I sure as... heck... don’t have much to go on.” Reuben gave the computer screen with the hooded thieves a look of disgust, then produced clips of everyone who’d entered the building prior to the robbery. It had apparently been a shift change. The lobby had been filled with people.
Evie produced the flip phone. “Granny’s emergency backup.”
Reuben’s eyes lit. “Genius, girl, give me that.”
Jax sent him the guest book photo, and Reuben was a happy camper again.
While Loretta clambered into the van to resume her video game, Jax leaned against the open doorway. “So, do we know who Granny was investigating, presuming she’s not the crook?”
“Keeping in mind that I have no idea how these things work—” Evie perched on the bumper. “Granny complained that whoever she was tracking kept changing his IPS or something like that.”
“ISP,” Reuben corrected. “Internet Service Provider. Not easy to change that unless you got a bunch of computers with different internet hookups. More likely, there’s more than one scammer.”
Evie shrugged at the correction and continued, “Marlene muttered about thieves and housekeeping, but I think she was after bigger fish.”
“Phishers,” Loretta crowed without glancing up from her game. “Fishing for phishers.”
“That might explain the fake IDs to buy different internet providers for the different computers. I’ll find out if she was using the addresses on the IDs.” Reuben waved the flip phone. “It will take a while to track these contact numbers and see if I can trace any of her calls.”
“The last batch was probably Mr. Charles calling his girlfriends,” Evie warned with amusement. “Does that mean there’s enough here to keep your holiness amused? Jax and I should probably check on Ariel if Roark’s going to be here awhile.”
“Oh, yeah, leave Roark here. I’d rather have you at my back on the way home.” Jax straightened and held out his hand for Evie to take.
Reuben waved them off without looking up. Engrossed in her game, Loretta simply called good-bye. She’d learned independence and entertaining herself from birth, Jax surmised.
“Can we check out those addresses Reuben drove by this morning? I’d really like to talk to those ladies.” Evie climbed on the bike and hugged his waist.
How could he refuse with all those ripe curves pressed against him? “What about Ariel?”
She showed him her phone email. “She’s taking on a case of her own. Tell her she needs to bill Pris for her time.”
“Yeah, like I’m telling my sister anything about money.” Jax kicked the bike into gear and followed Evie’s directions to the suburban development Reuben had described.
“Reuben says this is the kind of place where he grew up.” Jax rolled slowly through the older neighborhood. “Except he’s from Florida. We should probably make him go home and visit.”
“If you were a big Black gay PhD, would you go to Florida? He’d waste all his time spitting out crackers.”
Jax snorted. She probably wasn’t far wrong.
“There, the house with the shabby shutters and overgrown shrubs. Drop me off on the corner.” After Jax stopped the bike, Evie kissed his cheek and jogged down the cracked sidewalk.
This place probably wasn’t a lot different from the neighborhood where he had spent his first twelve years, before his parents were killed by a power-hungry sociopath. The houses were solid, just old and in need of maintenance. Some of the original owners had done a good job keeping up, others couldn’t.
He kept an eye on Evie talking to someone through a screen door. A middle-aged woman emerged from a better maintained house across the street and glanced at him, sitting here on his bike. Neighborhood watch, good.
Never having been considered a menace by anyone—except Evie—Jax confidently parked his bike and strolled down the sidewalk. Aware that his slacks and collared shirt made him look more like a salesman than a thug, he nodded respectfully to the woman pretending to deadhead her roses.