“You saw him refuse to tell me, too.”
“Yes, but you’re good at getting people to help you. You’re persuasive, and he likes you—I can tell. Did you see his face when you said he was cute? I want you to get him to tell us how he moves those damned blocks.”
“A legit business? Have you forgotten that I’m a fugitive?”
“Doesn’t matter. Nobody on earth can chameleon better than you. We’ll get you a new identity—we can change your name. In less than 24 hours I can hook you up better than the federal witness protection program. I have connections that owe me. Trust me.”
“I don’t trust you. I only trust me. And you still haven’t told me exactly what you want from me.”
“You get him to tell you in a way we can understand. Then we patent the shit out of it and monetize it in a legit business.”
Morana looked out the window for a few moments and then said, “Clay, I don’t know if he can make it simple. You heard him—he talks like he’s collaborating with Einstein.”
“You’ve got to try. I’ve visited him three times since he showed me and he won’t even let me watch him work.”
“Interesting,” Morana said, twirling her hair around a finger. “What split are you thinking?”
“Fifty-fifty, baby,” Clay said, pointing between them.
“What about Thane?”
“What about him?”
“What is his cut?”
“I don’t know,” Clay said, shifting in his seat. “We’ll keep him happy.”
“Clay, he gets a fair cut.”
“Money isn’t important to him,” Clay said. “Thane wants his privacy more than anything else. If we can help him maintain that, and make sure he has enough to work on his experiments in private for the rest of his life, we’ve made his dreams come true.”
“I’m not ripping him off, Clay. You should know how I feel about that sort of exploitation.”
“Okay, we give him a cut.”
Morana glared at him.
Clay cleared his throat and added, “A fair cut… a third.”
“Good,” Morana said, “If you want me involved, that’s how it will be, especially since you want me to do the initial heavy lifting—so to speak.”
“If you get him to spill his secret, I’ll agree to anything because money will be the least of our worries. Can you even imagine the potential revenue from this?”
“Yes, it’s enormous.”
They rode in silence for a few minutes, then Clay quietly laughed.
“What?” Morana asked.
“You have no problem killing people like you did on your mission in L.A., but a complete stranger not getting paid what you think he deserves, pisses you off.”
“Fair is fair. And for your information, I’ve never lifted a finger to anyone who didn’t deserve it—unless doing so contributed to a greater cause.”
“I understand. Are we… good?” Clay exaggerated a nervous glance at her.
“So far,” Morana said. “If I’m going to work on Thane, I need to see his accident documents.”
“I like how you’re thinking,” Clay said. He pulled the green folder from under the driver’s seat and gave it to her. “Frankly, I think it’s a scammer. Thane feels like the accident was somehow staged. I think he was set up.”
Morana flipped through some of the papers. “Interesting… Can you get me full background on the driver? I need a full profile, including all addresses he visits regularly.”
“What are you thinking?”
“Can you do it or not?”
“If I’m helping you, I’d just like to know in advance if you are planning to do something illegal.”
“What do I have to lose? Can you do it or not?”
“Mo, if you get too extreme and Thane gets any more paranoid, we’ll never get any info from him. And then if it makes his potential legal problem worse, our whole plan is shot.”
“Do I tell you how to operate your computers?”
Clay didn’t answer.
“Then shut up and let me do what I do. I plan to give Thane one less thing to worry about. A hunch like the one I feel now has never been wrong.”
Chapter 6
THE NEXT MORNING Morana woke up to the sound of slurping interlaced with clinks of Clay’s spoon on a cereal bowl.
“Morning,” Clay said.
Morana gave a halfhearted wave before she got up and went to the restroom. She returned minutes later, having changed and pulled her hair back.
She came and sat beside Clay at the table.
“Have you figured out how to get Thane to talk to us?” he asked, crunching on his cereal. He paused to offer her an overripe banana.
“Yes, we need money.” She took the banana.
“How much?”
“We’ll have to work with what’s available. Of the two of us, you’re the only partner in a position to fund our startup costs.”
“It’s funny how you use the word partner, then tell me I need to come up with the money.”
“You know I’m broke.” She peeled the banana and took a bite. “You knew that when you asked me to help you.”
“I get that, as long as you understand that I get proportionate equity in this thing if I’m carrying the financial risk.”
Morana stopped chewing and gave him an incredulous look. “Do you have any idea of the absurd revenue potential this thing has?”
“I’m just saying…” Clay raised his shoulders
“I can see that your greed probably ruined all your other schemes. This is what I missed by not working with you before?”
“Okay, okay, okay,” Clay said. “How much cash are you thinking?”
“Not much. I need some simple supplies, clothes, makeup, and a few tools—to start. And, frankly, you could use some groceries. Five thousand should cover it. I can get us started.”
Clay went to his bedroom. When he returned, he counted out $2,500 into her open hand. She folded the cash and tucked it into her pocket.
“That’s half,” she said.
“It’s all I have on hand. I’ll cash out some Bitcoin for the rest.” He opened a phone app, jotted a long code onto a napkin and gave that to her. “This will get you the other half. Don’t spend it all in one place.” He pulled a phone from his pocket and gave it to her.
“I’m supposed to trust this?” she asked.
“God, Mo, it’s a dead phone that was registered to me!” He popped the back cover off and inserted a battery. After the phone rebooted, he turned the screen toward her and pointed to an icon. “Use this app to message me. It’ll encrypt our text conversations. I’ll activate calling service for this phone tomorrow.”
“I don’t need the phone, Clay.”
“Just take it.”
“I prefer burners.”
“They’re not encrypted.”
“Anonymous communication needs no encryption.”
“Suit yourself.” Clay got up and picked up a tablet from the countertop. “So this morning I got the profile information you wanted on the guy who is harassing Thane.”
“Let me see.” She took the tablet from him and scanned the details. “He’s going after Thane for—how much?”
Clay looked over her shoulder and pointed to a place on the screen. “He’s trying to get $10,000 from Thane, but that makes no sense. Everett Paige is a successful stockbroker worth about $60 million, according to the records I found. And the dirt under his mansion in Arborcliffe Estates is worth at least $3 million, yet he’s going after Thane for 10,000? Something doesn’t add up.”
“Thane can’t pull together ten grand?” Morana asked.
“You saw his truck as clearly as Everett, and his lawyer must have. They’ve got to know he doesn’t have any money.”
Morana thought for a moment and then said, “Can you get me a full panel on Everett?”
“What do you mean?”
�
��His email addresses, phone numbers, mortgages, calendar and anything else I can use for a profile. The deeper you can drill down, the better.”
Clay took the tablet back from her. “Although I’m incredibly uneasy about what you’ll do with this information, it’s all there on the following pages.” Clay swiped through several screens. “Social media passwords, banking passwords, and a hundred other logins.”
Morana said, “Beautiful.” She took the tablet to the sofa and began reviewing the details of Thane’s harasser.
Clay said, “The guy is boring, but he’s made a few enemies in online forums arguing politics. For being such a jerk, he doesn’t cover his tracks very well. I guess when you’re that rich, lawyers fix any problem.”
“How did you get all of this information?” Morana said.
“Getting scoop is my thing.”
“No seriously—this is great. I need to know your capabilities. How did you do this?”
“This one was easy. I sent an email attachment to his secretary earlier this morning and then phoned her to verify its authenticity.”
“An attachment?”
“Yes, I asked that she open it to make sure it was viewable. It was a tax form I told her Everett had ordered. She opened it and a little piece of malware I authored granted me access to Everett’s world. I pulled all her browser-saved passwords and hacked their router with little effort. Everett wasn’t in yet, so I took a quick tour of his computer after blanking the monitor. I think I have everything except a blood sample from the guy.”
“Nice work, master hacker. I’ll take it from here.” She got up and went to the fridge.
“The sooner, the better on whatever you’re planning to do,” Clay said. “Thane is freaked out and thinks he’s going to prison and will lose his precious garage. He’d rather die than lose it. So, until this issue is out of his life, you can bet he won’t say a word about how he does anything in there.”
“Where are the papers Thane gave us?”
“I’ll get them,” Clay said, heading for the bedroom. “I have to get ready for work.” He disappeared into the hallway.
With Clay out of sight, Morana crept to the table and picked up his phone. She quickly opened his contact list and found Thane’s number. She memorized it, locked the phone and then jotted the number on the other side of the napkin with the Bitcoin code. She tucked it into her pocket just as Clay returned.
He handed her the papers. His mobile phone rang. He checked the number and said, “Dammit. I have to take this…” He left the room again.
Morana heard a tense conversation from behind his office door. Clay’s voice was muffled, not clear enough to understand. She poured herself some stale cereal and sat at a table, leafing through the printouts on Everett.
When Clay came out of his office, he said, “We need to put everything on hold.”
“Why?”
“I have to go to L.A.” He pocketed his phone and sighed.
“You’re kidding…”
“I wish I was.”
“When?”
“Now. I tried to get out of it. One of our clients is booking a Fiji tour, and the boss wants me to meet their organizer in person at their LA office first thing tomorrow morning. It’s a big contract. Also, I’ve got a busted water pump in the house according to my monitoring app for the nursery, so I need to tend to that while I’m there.”
“Can I stay here?” Morana asked.
“Sure, But I don’t want you working on Thane until I get back.”
“Why not?”
“I want to be here, and I want to be involved. I introduced you. I’m funding this thing.”
“Clay, timing is key. I can have all the info we need from him before you get back.”
“Why don’t you listen?”
“You asked for my help. Let me help.”
Clay went into the bedroom and slammed the door. A few minutes later he came out with a couple of packed bags and said, “You aren’t going to wait for me, are you?” Clay said.
“You’ll thank me later.”
Morana drove Clay to the airport in his car. As they neared the terminal, she said, “There’s one more thing...”
Clay didn’t answer. He shook his head and looked out the passenger window.
“I need access to your guns,” Morana said. “There is no way you wouldn’t have some.”
“I knew this was coming.”
“Then just save me some time and tell me where you’ve stashed them.”
“Listen, Mo, as creative as I’ve been with laws, I can’t afford to get tangled up in whatever you’re planning that needs a gun.”
“We’re already tangled, Clay. You’ve harbored me, so we’re both wanted by the law. They simply want me more than you at the moment.”
Clay raised his hands and said, “I really hate it when you threaten me, Mo. I’m doing you a favor!”
“You shouldn’t feel threatened. Our ability to harm each other is equal. Mutually assured destruction. That power keeps us both safe.”
“That’s so soothing,” Clay said.
“You know I’m not reckless. Quit trying to manage me. You do what you’re good at. I’ll do what I’m good at, and things will be very, very good for us.”
They arrived at the airport, and she pulled the car to the curb. Clay opened the door and paused before getting out. “Check my bedroom bookcase. Look inside the thickest books.”
“Thanks.”
Clay got his bags from the trunk and stooped down to the passenger window. Morana rolled it down. “I’ll be calling the apartment from my house. Caller ID will have my name so answer. Be careful.”
“I’m never careless.”
Clay waved, over his shoulder as he walked toward the terminal entrance.
“Clay!” Morana called out. He stopped and looked back.
“Thanks. I do appreciate—you know—everything.”
†
On the drive back to Clay’s apartment, Morana stopped and purchased an additional burner phone after having intentionally left the phone Clay gave her stuffed between his sofa cushions. At the apartment, she went to his bedroom and scanned the bookcase for the thickest books. She pulled them out, one by one: a Glock, a Smith & Wesson, and Beretta. At the top of his closet under some linen, she found a few boxes of ammunition.
Later that afternoon, Morana used her new burner phone to call Thane. The phone rang over ten times with no voicemail pick up despite Clay’s claim that Thane rarely left his shop. She tried again a couple of hours later and let the phone ring over fifteen times before she hung up. She double checked the number she’d written on the napkin to see if she might have dialed a wrong digit.
After spending some time in Clay’s home office researching on a computer Clay left out for her, she tried calling Thane again.
“Hello.”
“Hi, Thane?”
“Who is this?”
“It’s… Mo, Clay’s friend. We met last night. You showed us—”
“I remember.”
“Good. How are you?”
Thane didn’t respond.
“…Are you there?”
“Why did you call?”
“Okay… I want to talk to you about your situation—with your truck. I think I can help.”
“Where’s Clay?”
“He had to leave town for a few days unexpectedly. I just took him to the airport.”
“I know.”
“Pardon?”
“He told me already.”
“Then why did you ask?”
“You were honest.”
“Yes, of course… was that a test?”
“Are you dating Clay?”
Morana pulled the phone from her ear and frowned at it. “Did he tell you that?”
“Yes.”
“That’s not true.”
“So, you’re saying that Clay lies?”
�
��What I’m saying is that Clay sometimes exaggerates. Listen, Thane—”
“If you’re not dating him, that means he lied to me. Maybe I can’t trust him.”
“I wouldn’t go that far. His intentions are usually good.”
“Can you help me without Clay?”
“Absolutely—your trust would mean a great deal to me.”
“What do you have to tell me about the accident?”
“Listen, Thane, could I stop by later this evening to show you?”
“Why can’t you tell me now?”
“Based on what I’ve learned, I’d rather not share it on the phone.”
“Do you think my phone is bugged?”
“No, I’m not saying that. But I don’t want to take any risks because privacy is so important to both of us. Talking in person is safer.”
“I thought so.”
“You thought what?”
“I thought you would refuse to tell me on the phone. That’s good.”
“Was that another test?”
“You passed.”
Morana laughed. “Then can we meet?”
“When?”
“How about now? I could be there in about a half hour.”
“Today isn’t good. Maybe tomorrow.”
“Fine… But can you answer one question for me?”
“Maybe.”
Morana pressed the phone to her shoulder as she walked to Clay’s office. She pawed through some of the notes she had jotted beside the laptop. “Is it true that Ed Leedskalnin built a perpetual motion holder?”
“How do you know that?” Thane asked.
“I was so impressed by what you showed us, I did a little research and tried to grasp some of Master Leedskalnin’s concepts, but I couldn’t understand all the technical information in the YouTube video. I was hesitant to ask you because I assumed your explanation would be above my head.”
“Interesting,” Thane said.
“So, have you ever tried that particular experiment?” Morana asked.
“Of course. Many times.”
“After our call, I plan to buy some copper wire and bolts to see if I can replicate one of Ed Leedskalnin’s magnetic current experiments.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely. I’ll let you know how it goes. Wish me luck.”
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