That blamed tote bag, of course. Probably hidden in the laundry cart, sneaky diva.
Leaving her performing the same routine at the next door—although this one answered and Evie got to chat her up—Roark returned to retrieving his equipment.
Once he had everything in his box, he left without saying a word to the painters. He almost felt the tension relax at his departure. From their whispers, he gathered they thought him some kind of spy for management. Which would mean they were afraid of management? Or he could be making that up.
Listening, he heard Evie talking around the corner. He stalked in that direction, peering around the edge to verify what she was doing. Then he pushed the mic to call Reuben. “You gonna tell me what the two of you up to?”
“Just drumming up a little paranoia the modern way. You do voodoo, we do tech.”
“App is tech. Flyers ain’t. Explain.” He watched Evie chatter with a little old lady and hand her a paper. They had a nice little discussion and she moved on.
“I borrowed your app but ditched your witch and used one that would scare them more,” Reuben responded. “I emailed the board and upper management a link to an app that saysYou got money.I figured that was the fastest way to catch their attention.They click it and get an official looking IRS letter saying Sunshine is being audited, and if they have any illegal activity they would like to report, it will release them from liability. A reply goes to a comment page on an official looking website, but just clicking the link gives me access to their devices. Even if only a few are stupid enough to click...”
“Paranoia ensues, the virus spreads, and the shouting begins.” Roark chuckled. “I like it. If they’re already calling an emergency board meeting, then sounds like a few did some clicking.”
Evie disappeared from view. Roark hurried down the hall to keep up with her. “And what is ourpetite sorcièredoing with the flyers?”
“Official communication from Sunshine headquarters announcing police are investigating the murder of Marlene Gump and several burglaries and asking for anyone who knows anything to report to a confidential phone number and/or e-mail address. Evie doesn’t like websites.”
Roark’s brain screamed alarm. “Are both of youcrazy?” He rushed to catch Evie before she took the stairs to the next floor. She looked miffed when he caught her elbow but waited explanation.
“Out of herenow,” he ordered both Evie and Reuben, holding her captive while heading down the stairs. “Every one of those little old ladies is calling every person they know. The real killer will know what we’re doing in seconds.”
“The Cajun speaks English,” Evie complained, prying off his fingers. “Of course he will. That’s thepoint. Were we supposed to twiddle our thumbs until the feds decide Marlene is important enough to investigate? How many other people will die in the meantime?”
“I’ve got the bugs planted,” Reuben said into his ear. “Just leave the rest of the flyers on the desk and we can go.”
“We’re not going anywhere near the front desk. We didn’t sign in. Just leave them in the break room or whatever. And those better be secure numbers you’re using because Sunshine isn’t my daddy’s ignorami. They got skills.” Roark blocked doors, forcing Evie to continue down the stairs.
Jax was going to have his head and probably his balls too.
And when had he ever cared what the head honcho thought?
When he’d moved in with Jax’s sister. Damn.
“Your aura is flailing,” Evie said with amusement as they came out in the staff hall. “It was easier when you weren’t trying to please Jax.”
“Not trying to please no one. Trying to stay alive.” Roark glared at his partner in crime as Reuben trotted down the hallway, unpinning his plastic name tag. “You should have more sense.”
“What? How? This is what wedo. Since when did you become a Nervous Nellie?” Shaking his man bun in disbelief, Reuben headed for the door. “Paid good money for those flyers. Hate to waste them.”
Roark grabbed the lot from Evie’s hand and distributed them into the various cleaning carts. “There. Cleaning ladies can hand them out.”
Evie resisted being pushed out. “Marlene says Mr. Charles had a party before she got ill. He had an alcoholic purple punch with fruit floating in it. She thought the third and fourth cups were stronger than the first ones but drank them anyway. I talked to some of the other ladies on the floor, and they remembered the party. They thought the drinks got weaker.”
“So, the old goat wanted to seduce a drunken Marlene.” Roark opened the door and dragged her out. “That didn’t mean he was adding antifreeze to her cup. Why would he do that? Besides, the purple wouldn’t still be in her stomach days later.”
“Opportunity and means are a start, isn’t it? Now we look for a motive.” Evie glared and glanced wistfully back at the building. “I was just getting started.”
“You were on your way to getting killed.” Roark yanked open the van door and pointed inside. “I can heave you in easy enough.”
“Bully. I’ll tell Ariel on you.” She climbed inside.
“Ariel got more sense than you. She’d cheer me on.” He slammed the door.
“Ariel lives inside her head and not the real world,” Evie retorted from the interior.
She was right, but Roark didn’t care. He took his place behind the driver’s wheel, leaving Reuben on the passenger side. He wasn’t sure why he was so angry. This stunt wasn’t anything different from all the others he’d pulled.