“It’s a whole company of mafia across half a dozen states preying on old people!” Evie dived right in. “On sick people and their families! They’re already buried in a world of hurt, and these... these...”
“Scumbags? Vultures?” Jax offered. “Ass rats?”
“Ass rats?” Roark laughed. “They got rats up their ass?”
“Not old farts,” Jax said gloomily. “Asshat doesn’t begin to cover it. How could the feds not have seen what was going on? Isn’t there any oversight of nursing homes?”
“State.” Evie joined Dante in pulling grass and uncovering flagstones. “And that’s only inspection of facilities and whether they have trained personnel. And when it comes to places like the apartments—not even that, I imagine. It’s like gathering all your victims in one place and having a license to systematically rob them blind. It’s legal robbery.”
“Theft isn’t legal. But it has to be reported and ill old people might not even notice.” Jax helped Roark test the grill level. “And on the surface, Sunshine is clean. They get their fire and health inspections and obey most laws. The illegalities start out as a penny ante local matter.”
“Not when known criminals are stealing IDs, cheating on taxes, and laundering ill-gotten gains through cryptocurrency.” Roark polished the grill’s shiny hood with the hem of his tank top. “Ariel’s got it all lined up so simple even a mongoose can trace the money.”
“She did a pretty thorough job on uncovering management.” Reuben sank down on the back step in the shade. “I thought numbers were her thing.”
Roark shifted uncomfortably. “I been showing her a few ropes. She’s got dis steel trap mind dat remembers details back to dinosaurs. She’s the one remembered Mr. Charles appeared to be related to one of the managers and started digging.”
“And here I thought he was just a muddled professorial type.” Evie ripped out a huge hunk of grass. “Yeah, his aura colors are muddy, but that doesn’t always mean anything. It could mean he had Alzheimer’s for all I know. How did she discover Charles is an alias?”
“What do you mean, you’ve beenteachingAriel?” Jax didn’t look happy. “I don’t want her involved in your illegal hacking.”
Roark rolled his eyes. “Man, what do you t’ink she does for a living? She’s a federal charge waiting to happen. You can’t leave brilliant minds cooped up with a computer and expect anything less. All I showed her was da legal ropes you use. But those search systems get their info from somewhere and she just kept digging until she turned up fingerprint databases and DNA data, and I can’t tell what all.”
“Fingerprint databases?” Jax asked warily.
“Don’ ask unless you want to know,” Roark warned.
Dante pulled a fancy tool out of his pocket and began digging around the stones. “I take it Cousin Ariel is not available?”
Roark grinned at the pretty stranger’s dismay. “She works all night and leaves explosive Easter eggs on our doorsteps while we sleep. She’s a magic Easter bunny, and she isn’t even related to Evie’s witchy family. You’ll have to come back at suppertime. Jax was just using you for muscle.”
Dante didn’t look daunted. “Are you really working a dangerous case? Is there something I can do to help?”
“No buried carcasses to be unearthed as far as we know,” Evie answered. “Jax will probably try to persuade you to keep me out of the way tonight. I don’t advise it.”
Dante sent them all a narrow-eyed look but contented himself with excavating the patio, while listening. Roark had to admire the man for keeping a low profile, not easy with a handsome phiz like his.
“Just notify Professor Gump that Sunshine’s management and his mother’s boyfriend are career criminals living under aliases and laundering money, then drop it,” Jax advised.
“I’m sending the fed everything we find.” Roark waved a dismissive hand. “But I can’t tell him your sister invaded police records to match prints from the apartment with a database and dat in all likelihood, a retired swindler stole his mother’s computers. The local cops should have done dat.”
“Gump should have done that,” Jax grumbled. “He probably did and didn’t tell us. But we have no evidence on anything.”
Reuben stepped up. “What we need is a strategy for tonight. The boardroom is bugged, so we can pick up what’s happening there without leaving the van. I can dig into Mr. Charles aka Bernard Barouche to see if I can find a connection to Sunshine, other than his residency at the home, but right now, he’s just a retired ex-conman. His bank account does not show millions.”
“Granny didn’t know his alias, did she? Unmasking him might be pretty strong motivation for murder.” Evie yanked more grass.
“If we didn’t, she didn’t. She didn’t know about any of the scum running the place. Ex-cons, ex Russian spies, all bad guys.” Roark sat down with his tools and the grill. “You should do one of your séance t’ings, call all da ghosts in the place. Or pretend to. My granny shakes chairs and swings lanterns.”
“Your granny is a fraud then. Although Granny Gump is getting good at rattling doors. What did you have in mind? We can’t get in the apartment anymore.”
“Sure we can. Dose locks are easy. Sunshine ain’t big on security, now, is it? They’d already removed Marlene’s bolts when we were there with da painters.” Imagining the barbecues he could hold, Roark dismantled the faulty propane connection.
Evie still looked dubious. “I don’t know what holding a séance would accomplish.”
“We didn’t find anything except patient files in your camera images from the nursing home. I’d like into HR’s employee files or better, the VP’s. Any way we can do that?” Reuben sipped his bottled water.
“I’m going to lock all of you up before the cops do,” Jax protested, right on schedule. “Just wait to see what happens tonight before you go out on more limbs.”