by Rickie Blair
“But if that happened, Millie’s bank would know that her foreclosure had been postponed, right?”
“Naturally.”
Ruby tucked her wet hair behind her ears and paced the room. Hari followed her with his eyes.
“Then why didn’t her bank manager know about it?”
“I said a piggyback scheme was a possibility. It might not have happened.”
“Can we get Millie’s money back?”
“You’d have to know who defrauded her, but, even then, her money is likely gone for good.”
“But we know who it was. His name is Dragos Luca.”
Hari stared at her, his chest tightening.
“Who?”
“Dragos Luca.”
Hari tossed back the sheet to swing his legs over the bed.
“That’s not good.”
She tossed him a terry robe.
“What do you mean?”
He reached for the bedside phone and hit the button for room service.
“I’ll tell you the whole story, but first I need a shower. And breakfast.” He wagged a finger at her. “Don’t go anywhere.”
Over omelets, toast, and coffee, he brought her up to date on the Starlight Hotel fraud and his search for the missing IT employee.
“Turns out this kid owes money to Dragos Luca—gambling debts—which is why he stole information from the hotel in the first place. I found the data on his computer.” He shoved toast into his mouth, chewed and swallowed. “Although, to be honest, I have my doubts.”
“About what?”
“About whether he’s done what they say.” Hari pushed his plate away. “It was awfully easy to find that data. Too easy, if this kid really is a hacker. Anyway, Luca sent one of his goons to—well, he had a gun, that’s all we know. But this IT employee—a scrawny little guy by all accounts—cut off his head with a sword.”
“A sword?” Ruby put her coffee down and stared at him.
“That’s right. At least, the police think it was him. But he’s disappeared, so they can’t ask him.” Reaching for his coffee cup, he looked over at Ruby.
Her eyes were bright and she was smiling.
“Zeke Turner, right? I know where he is.”
“How do you know his name?”
“I met him last night. He’s with Millie and Norris.”
Now it was Hari’s turn to stare.
“You met him?”
“Last night, yes, at the encampment.”
“I told you that place wasn’t safe.” Hari replaced his cup on its saucer and sat back. “And now there’s a madman with a sword running around? Please tell me you’re not going back.”
“Zeke’s not a madman, he’s a nice kid. Whatever happened, I’m sure he didn’t mean to do it.”
“Really? Because there’s a headless body at the morgue that might beg to differ.”
Her mouth twitched into a smile.
“You know that’s impossible for a body without a head, right? Or any dead body? Unless we’re talking zombies and I don’t think—”
Hari grabbed his cup and stood up, gulping his coffee.
“Tell me where this place is.”
“I can show you. I’m going back there today to help Norris find a place for Millie to live. Then we can get Tinks back and—” Ruby’s voice trailed off. “Hari, are you listening?”
“Have you seen my shirt?” He was across the room, pulling on his pants.
“It’s over there.” She pointed. “So, do you want to come with me?”
Hari tried to fasten his buttonless shirt, but gave up and tucked it into his pants.
“You can’t go back there, Ruby. Zeke Turner is dangerous.”
“He’s not, I just told you. In fact, he’s helping Norris find the evidence they need to prove that Dragos Luca defrauded Millie. Or something. I didn’t quite follow it. Zeke has his laptop with him.”
Hari, who was on his hands and knees retrieving a shoe from under the bed, popped his head up. “His laptop?”
“Yes, why?”
“We need to go there now. How soon can you be ready?”
* * *
In the hotel room adjoining Ruby’s, Felicity took off her sleep mask. She hadn’t heard from Sam since seeing him at the bar the previous evening. Felicity glanced at the door that led to Ruby’s room. Of course she hadn’t heard from Sam. He had been busy. Her stomach tightened. Very busy.
Her cellphone rang and she picked it up.
“Just checking in,” Sam said, “any instructions for today?”
“Aren’t you with Ruby?” She sat up.
“No. Where did you get that idea?”
Felicity stared at the connecting door between her room and Ruby’s. Then who was— She broke into a grin and her stomach relaxed.
“Interested in breakfast, Sam?”
“You’re on. Meet you downstairs in the lobby?”
“Give me twenty minutes.” Felicity put the phone down and jumped out of bed.
* * *
In the air-conditioned hiss of his locked computer room, Luca scowled at two grainy photos of a woman with black hair and a briefcase. Why did she look so familiar?
Greaves had emailed two black-and-white screen grabs from the bank’s security cameras. Both showed a young woman, wearing glasses and a sensible suit whose skirt grazed her knees. The woman sat on a chair in the bank’s waiting area in one picture. And in the other, she walked down a hallway accompanied by Greaves.
He blew up the first photo to zero in on her face. The bank’s overhead lights reflected off her glasses, partially obscuring her features. He turned to the second photo, blew it up also and printed both. He stared at the paper copies, blinking. Where had he seen her?
He sat bolt upright, his heart racing. It was the woman who hit the widow with her car.
Luca and Petru had gone to the house in Henderson that day, searching for Norris Havelock. The old woman claimed she didn’t know where he was. They pushed her around a bit to jog her memory. No harm done. But then her dog sunk its teeth into Petru’s shoe and Petru kicked it out the front door. The old woman ran after it.
Luca turned on Petru, slapping him across the face.
“You stupid pula! What did you do that for?” Luca followed the widow, cursing under his breath, craning his neck to see if the little dog was okay. He hung back as the widow trotted straight into the path of an oncoming Audi. When the driver got out of the car and bent over the widow, Luca saw her clearly. He had run his eyes up her legs and over her curves, eventually arriving at her face.
In the photos, her hair was darker but it was the same woman.
He picked up a cellphone lying by the monitor and keyed in a number.
“There was an accident two days ago in Henderson. Old woman hit by a car.” A pause. “Yeah, that’s the one. I want the driver’s name and address.” He hung up and studied the photos.
A few minutes later, the phone rang. Luca picked it up.
“Yeah, read it out to me.” He grabbed a pen and scribbled on a scratchpad. “And fax me her driver’s license. No, now.” He hung up, ripped off the sheet and reviewed what he had written.
‘Abigail Ruby Baxter, New York City, staying at the Starlight Hotel.’
Luca stared again at the woman in the surveillance photo. Greaves had said that her name was Juliana Edwards. A web search for Las Vegas accountants named ‘Juliana Edwards’ came up with nothing. No surprise there. When his email beeped, he clicked on it and opened the attachment. It was Abigail Baxter’s New York driver’s license. He studied the license photo. It was the same woman, definitely, despite the hair. After printing out the surveillance photos and driver’s license, he picked up the phone again and called the Starlight.
“Put me through to Abigail Baxter’s room.”
“One moment.” Luca tapped his hand on the desk, listening to the canned music. The operator returned. “I’m sorry, there’s no one staying here by that name.”
“Has she checked out?”
“No. We never had a guest by that name.”
Luca ended the call, cursing. His priority was to find Zeke Turner, then to assure Bucharest that the auction was safe. He didn’t have time to worry about an idiotic street person and his mother. And now they had help? He turned off the computer and stormed out.
“Roman,” he yelled down the stairs.
Roman stepped onto the landing and looked up at him. Luca held out the surveillance photos and driver’s license.
“Find this woman. She’s staying at the Starlight, probably under a fake name.”
Roman took the papers, tucking them into his breast pocket before turning to the front door.
“Wait,” Luca said, waiting for Roman to turn and face him again. “I want this done tonight. No excuses.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
The streetlights were still on, but sunlight had dispelled the shadows by the time Ruby parked the rental Audi across the street from the homeless shelter. She pointed out the deserted campsite to Hari.
“I think they move inside when it gets hot,” she said.
He peered over her shoulder.
“Inside where?”
“The storm drain,” she said, opening the car door. “I’ll show you.”
She tugged a baseball cap over her head before picking her way down the embankment, stepping around rocks and garbage, thankful she had worn running shoes this time. Hari left his jacket in the car and followed. At the campsite, a brief breeze cooled their faces and rustled a newspaper taped over the entrance to a makeshift tent.
Hari poked his toe in a campfire’s doused ashes and glanced around.
“People live this way?”
Ruby walked to the storm drain and tilted her head at the opening.
“Not all of them.”
His mouth fell open. “They’re in there?”
Nodding, Ruby turned to step into the drain. She flicked on her cellphone flashlight app and they walked down one side, avoiding the dirty water trickling down the center and trying not to touch the walls. About fifty yards in, Ruby turned right to step into a secondary drain.
“Millie? Norris?” She swung the light from side to side.
Norris stepped into the light, holding up a hand to shield his eyes.
“Ruby? Is that you?”
She slipped the phone into her pocket, stepping ahead.
“Yes, and I’ve brought a friend with me.”
Bars of light that flashed through a grate in the ceiling shone on Millie’s bowed head. Hari hung back as Ruby walked over to sit on the mattress beside the elderly woman and place a hand on her arm.
“Millie, how are you feeling?”
Millie patted Ruby’s hand.
“I’m fine, thank you. Will we see Tinks today?”
Ruby pulled out her phone and held it up.
“The vet sent me a picture so you could see how she’s doing.”
Millie peered at the bright-eyed Maltese nestled in the arms of a blue-jacketed vet technician. She tapped the screen with an arthritic finger.
“She’s okay, then?”
“She’s better than okay, she’s perfectly fine. A little sore, maybe. She misses you, though.”
Millie reached for the phone and held it up.
“Look, Norris.”
He bent over her shoulder to peer at the screen.
“She looks good, Mom.” He straightened up and looked at Ruby. “Thank you.”
When Hari stepped closer to the group, Millie looked up from the phone.
“Who are you?”
“This is a friend,” Ruby said. “His name is Hari Bhatt.”
Hari gently shook Millie’s hand.
“Pleased to meet you. I’m hoping to speak to Zeke Turner. Do you know where he might be?”
Norris turned to look at Hari.
“How do you know Zeke?” he asked in a sharp tone.
“I don’t. But I’m investigating a fraud at the Starlight Hotel and I need to speak to him.”
Ruby held her breath, looking from one to the other, and cleared her throat.
“Hari, we don’t even know if—”
“What do you wanna know?” said a voice from the darkness. Zeke stepped from the shadows with a sword slung over one shoulder and a laptop under his arm. “If you find Zeke Turner, I mean.”
“If I were to find Mr. Turner,” Hari replied in his most serious voice, “I would ask him what he knows about the theft of customer information from the Starlight. I would also emphasize that Dragos Luca is a dangerous man and it would be wiser if Mr. Turner were to align himself with other parties.”
“You bring anyone else with you?”
Hari shook his head. Zeke dropped himself onto the mattress next to Ruby and leaned in close to her.
“Is this guy okay? Should I talk to him?”
“Yes. And yes. We’re not here to get you into trouble, Zeke.”
Zeke shrugged off his sword, placed his laptop on the mattress and switched it on.
Hari stood beside him to peer over his shoulder, then pulled out his phone and called up the data provided by his decryption program before holding it out to Zeke.
Zeke took the phone, scowling at the list. He handed it back and bent over his laptop.
“I know what I did was wrong, but you don’t know Luca. I had no choice,” he said, tapping on the keyboard. “But I didn’t take all that stuff,” he pointed at Hari’s phone without looking up, “not even close. I don’t know where you got that, but I gave Luca a couple dozen names and credit card numbers. That’s all.”
Hari waggled the phone.
“I got this data off your computer at the Starlight.”
Zeke turned his head and widened his eyes as his mouth went slack.
“That’s impossible.” His voice rose. “I’m telling you, that’s impossible.”
“Could someone else have put it there?”
Zeke’s voice was barely audible as he considered Hari’s question. “Shit.”
Ruby put a hand on his arm and he turned to her, shaking.
“We can help you, Zeke,” she said.
“You don’t understand. If I don’t get Luca his money—”
Hari broke in. “You know it’s too late for that, right?”
“I know I have to leave town before he finds me. But that takes cash.” Zeke tugged a hand through his hair. “Word around the hotel is that William Watson is in town, and he’s been talking to you. That true?”
“How did you know—”
“Is it true?”
“Yes.”
“So you can give him my demand—”
Hari raised an eyebrow, and Zeke swallowed.
“—my suggestion that if he pays me I can give him Dragos Luca.”
“How much?”
“To be determined.”
Hari met Zeke’s gaze. “Why would Watson do with Dragos Luca?”
“Luca is the one who sells the information. I took stuff from the hotel database, I admit it, and I sold a few names myself, but Luca and his group are the ones making real money.” Zeke turned to the laptop and called up the browser. “Take a look at this.” He turned the laptop to face Hari and leaned back. Hari pulled the screen closer.
“Is this—”
“Their auction site. It goes live twice a month and they sell the information in packets. Then they take the whole thing down and move it before the next auction.”
Hari whistled as he scrolled down the list.
“There are thousands of packets here.”
“That’s only a sample. This is a screen grab I took the last time the site was up. When it goes live tonight, there will be millions.”
“What time?”
“Eight o’clock. It shuts down at midnight.”
Ruby leaned over to glance at the screen.
“What are they selling?”
“Credit card numbers, PIN numbers, bank accounts, names and addresses, dea
th dates, passwords—you name it,” Hari said. “It’s identity theft on a massive scale. The information on this site could defraud millions of people. Did Luca set this up?”
“The site originates in Bucharest as far as I can tell,” Zeke said. “The information flows in from all over, though. Europe, North America, the Orient. It’s heavily encrypted.”
“I assume this is Tor?”
Zeke nodded, pointing to the dot-onion URL at the top of the screen.
“Who are the buyers?”
“Impossible to tell until they start logging into the auction. It’s by invitation only. The password changes each time. Usually I can’t crack it,” he pointed to the list on the screen, “but I had help from friends on this one.”
“So, we need the address for tonight’s auction and the password. How are we going to get those?”
“We already have the auction site.”
Hari whistled again.
“That was quick work.”
“I can’t take the credit for it. Norris found it at the casino.”
Zeke high-fived Norris and they both grinned. Hari gave them a puzzled look.
“He found it where?”
Norris pulled the casino voucher from his shirt pocket and turned it over to show the scribbled words on the back.
“Luca left this in a slot machine payout tray. Zeke checked this address and found the auction site.”
Ruby looked at the three men huddled over the laptop and shook her head.
“Why would Luca leave something that valuable sitting around?”
“It must have been a drop,” Zeke said. “Someone else would have picked it up eventually, but Norris snatched it before they could get to it. Besides, it’s only valuable if you know what it is. And even then, you need the password.”
“But Luca could have emailed it, surely.”
“Everything you send online is trackable. But this,” Zeke took the voucher from Norris and ripped it in half with a flourish, “can be destroyed as if it never existed.”
“Hey,” Norris said, snatching the torn pieces from Zeke, “that’s my fifty-three dollars and forty-five cents. Gimme that.” He smoothed them out before returning the chit to his pocket.