I shook my head. “Why do the last two steps?”
“Well, weed’s a booming business, right? But it’s tightly regulated to keep it from laundering money. Besides, why would you need to, it’s making cash hand over fist right now. You can grow and sell it legally here. But, there’s one problem with selling weed here. It’s not legal on a federal level, so banks won’t touch it. They pay all their employees cash, pay all their vendors cash. You can’t do electronic transfers with it. Nothing like that.”
“But,” I continued, seeing where she was going with this, “because it doesn’t need to be metaphorically cleaned the way real dirty money does, you can take the cash from the weed shops and invest it in other legit businesses, and then use the proceeds from that.”
She tapped the tip of her nose. “Exactly.”
“So it’s definitely what they want the gallery for, then?”
“Unless we got a real art lover,” Lacy replied. “And, from the looks of Wyatt, I’m gonna say he can’t tell a Monet from a Picasso. Wyatt could run that place through a front partner, buy up art at inflated prices. Sure, you get a cut taken by the artist, and all the taxes and stuff, but you’re cleaning your cash for twenty-five cents on the dollar. That’s a pretty good deal, from my understanding.”
I laughed. “You know, you’re probably on a list somewhere for looking all this up.”
“Come on, Richard, you think they can tell what my IP address really is?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know what that is.”
She laughed again. “Don’t worry, I’m safe. Besides, if the NSA shows up at my door, I’ll just show them my boss’s Top Secret clearance from his time in the service.”
I closed the file, flicked the hard card stock of the folder with my finger as I leaned back in the seat. “Okay. So we know why S and B would want the Curious Turtle. Any luck on the fax machine?”
“Right,” she said. “Almost forgot. It came from right there.” She pointed up the street.
“Where?” I asked, leaning forward.
“The mailbox place just up the block.”
“You’ve got to be shitting me.”
“Why would I shit you, Richard?” she asked.
“Any chance we can find out who sent it?”
“Well, they should keep records, right? Billing statements, credit card records, that kind of thing. No one pays cash anymore.”
“Can you, like, hack the information or something?”
She cackled again, and I shot her a dirty look. “What now? Already get it for me or something?”
“No, stupid. You can’t just hack everything you want. This isn’t NCIS, silly.”
“How do we get it, then? I doubt they’re going to let me go in and search through their files without a warrant.”
She scratched at the front of her chin with just the index finger of her right hand. “No, probably not. But, they may let me take a look.”
Immediately, I thought about Peter’s warning to me about not letting Lacy get too close to this thing. She wasn’t a field agent, and she wasn’t equipped to deal with the fallout of decisions if things went south and got dangerous. But, come on, what was the worst that could happen? Her piss somebody off because she’s being pushy about getting some billings records or asking too many questions?
Besides, who else was there to do it? I couldn’t take my eyes off the Curious Turtle, or our client, long enough to go follow up on the lead . . . not in that way, mind you. I was running security here, and even going inside the shop across the street for too long could be a bad idea. And, even if Matthew was due back this afternoon, this information could be time sensitive.
I bit my thumbnail for a moment, tried to think of a better alternative. Unfortunately, there really wasn’t one. This was a problem that needed to be take care of, and soon. “Okay,” I said after a long moment of consideration. “But, only because we don’t have of the guys in town to do it instead.”
She balled up her fists and squealed a little at her new task.
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t get too excited, or anything. You need to play this cool.”
“Oh man, Richard, you have no idea how cool I can be,” she said, literally bouncing up and down in her seat so the whole Jeep was rocking. “I’m like a fucking cucumber, dude, in the zone, everything.”
I sighed and she came to a stop with a little, this time more muted, squeal of delight. “When do you want me to go? Now?”
“Get to it,” I said, making a skedaddle hand motion. “Go.”
She hopped out of my Jeep. Before she slammed the door shut she popped her head back in. “Does this mean I get like a gun or something? Just in case?”
I just glared at her. “This can wait till Matthew gets back. You know that, right?”
She groaned. “I was just joking, dude. You don’t need to take everything so seriously.”
I jabbed a finger at her. “No, dude, I do need to. Now, go, and bring me back who sent that fax.”
She went to close the door, her late-teen eyes rolling so hard they almost unscrewed from her head.
“One more thing,” I said before she could close the door. “Don’t tell Gen about this.”
“Grandma?” she asked, smiling. “Fuck no.” She slammed the door to the Jeep closed and headed down the sidewalk toward the mailbox place.
As she walked away, her hands stuffed into her hoody’s pockets, I grabbed my phone and checked the time. Just four more hours before the gallery closed down for the night. Which meant just a couple more hours of sitting and waiting.
Thank God, too. This shit gets boring.
Of course, by the end of the day, I’d be more than happy with just being bored.
Chapter Nineteen
Jessica
With a greasy, salty, ketchup-coated french fry pressed between two fingers, I groaned at Sheila across my desk. I was the one seated in a visitor chair this time, as she plowed through the rest of the Curious Turtle’s accounting work on my computer. “He didn’t even look at me,” I whined.
“You’re just overthinking things,” she explained between bites of fry. “He’s doing a job, girl. Why are you all upset about this guy anyways? He’s totally not your type.”
“But that’s the worst part,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “I don’t freaking know why I am!”
“I mean, I get it,” she admitted, “he’s sexy.”
“You don’t even know which one is working as my bodyguard!”
“Oh girl, they were all sexy,” she said with a grin, followed by another bite of fry. “You just haven’t seen all of them yet.”
I laughed as I crumpled up my burger wrapper and tossed it in the takeout bag.
She grabbed her shake, took a long drink from the straw. “You thinking about doing the safe house thing? Like he suggested?”
I sighed and nodded. “Yeah. I just, I don’t know, want to feel safe. And, if that’s what it takes to feel that way, that’s what I’m going to do. I just keep closing my eyes and thinking about that tortoise, worrying that next time it’ll be Walach or Eli. Or me, even.”
“Think it’ll really get that bad?”
“I don’t know,” I replied with a shake of my head. “But, if it is these Skull and Bones guys, what would stop them? Sheriff Peak? He couldn’t even stop the random stalker when it was just a random stalker. What could he do with these guys?”
She took another bite of fry, seemed to weigh my options with a little flick of her from side to side. “That’s true,” she said. “But, have you thought about just taking their money and going? I mean, my daddy’s rich, but even I know two-hundred grand is a lot of money.”
Honestly, the thought had entered my mind, if only for a moment.
“I mean, it would be enough for you to start over, open up a new gallery somewhere.”
“A new one?” I groaned. “I mean, I see what you’re saying, but I don’t think Enchanted Rock could really support another galler
y specializing in the same thing. I’d have to move, and I don’t think I could handle that.”
“Good point. I don’t think I could handle you leaving, either. Everyone else around here is, I don’t know . . . lame.”
“Well, you’d still have Karen, right?”
She made a face as a little shudder went through her body. “I don’t know. Karen and I just aren’t as close as we used to be.”
I had no idea she felt that way about her! We’d always been friends through the years. Well, at least I thought we were. “You don’t like Karen anymore? You two were bosom buddies before I got back. What happened?”
“She’s okay,” Sheila replied. “But, I’ve just never liked the way she looked at the guys I brought around her. Or, remember how, back in high school, when I got my first car?”
I shook my head. “Girl, high school was almost ten years ago.”
“Okay, so I got like some Jeep Wrangler or something, a brand new one that Daddy bought me. Guess what? She had her father turn around and buy the exact same one for her the next week.”
I laughed. “That’s what half the class drove. All you rich girls wanted one for your sixteenth birthday.”
“She got the same color as me, Jess! The same color! How creepy is that?”
I shook my head and laughed. “So, what you’re telling me is, two spoiled daddy’s girls can’t be friends? This town’s not big enough for the two of you.”
She kept her eyes level with mine, but finally smiled. “Oh, fine, you’re probably right. But, no, don’t leave me with just Karen. I don’t think I could live with just her around. Not after I’ve tasted the sweetness that is Jessica Long.”
I smirked. “What else is there, then? Take the money? Or let Frost Security do its thing?”
She popped another fry in her mouth, slapped her hands clean of salt and oil as she leaned back in her chair. “How about this? Say they’re really wanting the place to launder money. Hypothetically. What about it would be so bad?”
“Excuse me?” I asked, giving her the side eyes.
I was not about to seriously contemplate committing a felony.
“What?” she asked, faking innocence. “I said hypothetically, didn’t I?”
I shook my head. “Okay, so hypothetically? For one, I’d still be involved in their criminal organization. Something happened, I’d still go down with them. Other than that, though, I don’t think I could sleep with myself at night, Sheila. Gangs like this, they get their money from drugs and gambling and all sorts of shady, illegal stuff, illegal stuff that hurts people, or they need to hurt people while they’re committing the crimes. That’s why they need their money laundered, right?” I popped another fry in my mouth, shook my head as I chewed. “I mean, there’s doing some things for money, then there’s doing others, you know? Like, this isn’t talking about stripping to pay for college or something. We’re not talking about working some crappy job that I don’t like, we’re talking about organized crime here. Going to the big house kind of crime.”
She shrugged and sighed. “Well, I still don’t think it’s what they want your place for, or what Wyatt has in mine. But what do I know?”
“Hey,” I snapped. “You’re still the smartest woman I know. Just because you have atrocious taste in men, that doesn’t mean you’re stupid. You just, I dunno, turn your brain off sometimes.”
She laughed. “You mean that I know how to have fun, right?”
Chapter Twenty
Richard
Lacy came padding back up the street a little while later, her face neutral as she climbed back into the Jeep.
“Find out anything?”
She frowned. “I’ve got a coffee date.”
“A coffee date?” I asked, confused. “Sent you down there to get customer records, and you’re picking up dates?”
“Guy that works there is someone I went to school with, okay, and he thinks he remembers who came in to use the fax yesterday around that time, but he can’t remember for sure.”
Oh, man. Lacy got conned while she was trying to pull her own con. She was counter-conned. I stifled a fit of laughter. “Can’t remember for sure?” I asked, grinning.
“Shut up, Richard. Or I’ll take compromising photos of you in wolf form and post them all over the internet.”
I laughed. “Let me get this straight, so this guy is going to get you what we need, but you have to go out to coffee with him? What’s his name, this oh so eligible bachelor?”
She shivered. “Terry. His name is Terry. Everyone made fun of him because he would just watch Japanese anime porn during class and draw tentacles.”
I tried to hold back my peels of laughter, but couldn’t.
“Are you happy?” she asked, eyes narrowed.
“Hey,” I said as I caught my breath, “don’t lay this at my doorstep, young lady. You volunteered.”
“If you’d given me a gun we wouldn’t have this problem. I could have just threatened him till he gave it over.”
“We? We don’t have a problem,” I replied. “You, Lacy. You have a date.”
She groaned, laid her head back against the headrest.
“Think this copy jockey has the info you need?”
“Unfortunately, yeah.”
“Well, guess you better go home and get ready for your date, then,” I said, accentuating the word date. “You don’t want to keep Terry waiting, do you?”
She grumbled and climbed back out of my Jeep.
“Don’t forget to shave your legs,” I teased.
“Ew,” she said, “gross. Nothing like that’s going to happen. I’d rather use the razor to slit my wrists, anyways.”
Poor kid. She looked really down on her luck about this one. As far back as I could remember, I don’t think I’d ever seen her dating a guy in person. Always some online, long distance thing going. I think the only real life human beings she ever interacted with were me and the other guys at the security shop. And her Grandma Gen, of course.
And us guys, well, we weren’t exactly the kinds of people a teenage girl wanted hanging around them all the time. For one thing, we didn’t really hang, so much as we loomed.
Still, I couldn’t contain my laughter as she slammed the door shut.
My laughter, though, was cut short by a text from Jessica. Wiping tears from the corners of my eyes, I picked up my phone from the dash. “Leaving in 30.”
“Got it. Be right behind you,” I texted back, then tossed the phone back from where I’d gotten it.
Thirty more minutes, then I’d get a change of scenery. That’d be nice. At least that would mean I was doing more than just sitting around.
Unfortunately, I’d be doing a lot more.
Chapter Twenty-one
Jessica
“Alright, girl,” I said, coming back into the office after giving the gallery floor a good sweeping down, “I’m about to close up shop.”
“Already?” Sheila asked. “It’s not even three yet.”
“Sorry, it’s just been a long day, and I’m ready to get out of here. Things really die down around this time, anyways.”
“That bad, huh?”
I shrugged. “Had a sale earlier today, but it wasn’t with a new client. But, it’s enough to keep us open for the rest of the month, at least.”
“You know, Jess, I need to level with you,” Sheila said, gesturing to the visitor chair. Her voice didn’t sound too confident, or happy.
Shakily, I sat down in the indicated chair, my hands folded in my lap.
Sheila glanced to the computer screen, bit her lip like a doctor about to diagnose me with cancer. “I’ve been doing all your accounting for the gallery since Blake died, and, well, things aren’t pretty. I think you know that, too.”
I nodded. I knew things were tight. I’d never really had to worry too much about them in the past, because Blake took care of everything. There had always been money in the bank when I needed it, even during my down months.
“I mean, if Wyatt backs off,” she continued, “but stays as a part owner in this thing without contributing any money, I don’t know what you’re going to do. His uncle was pretty much keeping this place afloat, especially during the off seasons like this. If sales on art stay down like they have, that’s it. You don’t really have an art gallery anymore.”
A lump formed in my throat, and I swallowed hard. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying, all seriousness, you need to really consider taking Wyatt’s money. He’s offering substantially more than you’d ever get for your portion of ownership in this place.”
“Could I save it?” I asked, my voice shaking. “Could I salvage the gallery, put it in the black?”
She sighed, screwed her mouth to the side. “Maybe? But you’d need to invest in it pretty heavily, maybe get a loan from a bank or something? And even then, well, the chances of you even getting one are pretty slim.”
I sagged into my chair. “So, you think I should just take the money and run?”
“Do something. Anything! Right now, there’s just not much of a way forward, not the way you’re going. You need to change something.”
I nodded slowly, trying to absorb everything my best friend had just told me. “I’m fucked, then?”
She winced. “Yeah, kind of. Not unless you figure out a way to unfuck yourself. And, believe me, that’s easier said than done.”
And, just like that, I felt like my world was slipping away. First Blake dying, then the stalker, followed by Wyatt, now this. I rested my head on fist. “Just give up, then?”
“I didn’t say that. Look, Daddy’s first business failed. It happens. You just start over in a new place, with a new idea. Maybe you need to put a gift shop in here, or next door. Something you don’t want to do, but something that makes you even more money during the season so you can float more easily through the bad. Diversify.”
FROST SECURITY: Richard Page 11