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"Sorry about the rough stuff," Willy began. "Scott and I have a history. I gotta pretend to be the tough guy."

"You do a nice job."

Willy laughed. "That's good. I like that." He reached into his pocket and extracted a twenty-dollar bill, using Benny's body to hide the gesture from Scott. "This is something extra for your efforts. Scott'll give you what he owes, so you might want to keep this between us."

Benny palmed it and slipped it into his pocket. "Thanks."

"No sweat. You help me; I help you. Tell me about the bald man."

"Not much to tell. He came in one night about a week ago and paid cash for a room. One night."

"Any car or luggage?"

"An overnight bag. Small. He told me he came in on the bus, so no car."

"How many key cards did he ask for?"

Benny smiled slightly. "Two. That happens a lot."

"Did you ever see the other party?"

Benny shook his head. "Nope. And that was it. I took the money, had him fill out the form, and gave him the keys. Never saw him again till that picture was in the paper."

"What was his name?"

"I don't remember." His eyes widened at Willy's instantaneous reaction. "Honest," he added urgently.

Willy softened his expression again. "He say where that bus came from?"

"No."

Willy kept his voice conversational. "Why didn't you call us?"

Benny looked embarrassed. "I was going to. That's what I told Scott when he said we could get paid for it."

"You know he's a schmuck, right?"

"Yeah, I guess. I'm sorry."

Willy shook it off. "Don't worry about it. Tell me your full name, your date of birth, where you live, and your phone number."

Benny did as he was told, Willy listened intently, memorizing the details until he could write them down later-a trick he'd developed from not always having a free hand.

"Okay. You wait here while I have a few words with Scott. You did good, by the way. Next time come to me direct. You can still get paid and you don't have to get fouled up. Right?"

"Yes, sir."

Willy left him there and tramped back to the car, leaning once more into Scott's face. "Twenty out of the fifty you're screwin' me for?"

Scott grimaced. "I'm just trying to make ends meet."

"And he's not?"

"He's got a job," Scott complained.

Willy pulled the money out of his pocket and dropped it on the other man's lap. "Fifty-fifty. Be a man. I take care of you for doing nothing. You take care of him for making you twenty-five bucks. Plus, I don't tell him you were about to fuck him over."

Scott opened his mouth to protest, but Willy silenced him with a quickly raised hand. "You did tell him you'd split even money, didn't you?"

"Yeah," Scott admitted sullenly.

Willy straightened, still looking down at him. "Then do the right thing, like I said. For once in your life."

Scott nodded, already leafing through the bills, dividing them.

Willy whistled at Benny and gestured him over. "We'll probably be back in touch, Mr. Grosbeak. Don't go on any trips without letting me know, okay?"

Benny nodded and got back into the car.

Willy stepped back, his hand still holding Scott's door open. "Twenty-five bucks for each of you-not too bad. Don't forget your seat belts."

Scott gave him a sour look as he started the engine. "Yeah-whatever." Willy laughed and let them drive off.

CanadaBoi: so who's all home with you right now? Becky: younger step brother CanadaBoi: oh wheres ur parents? Becky: working CanadaBoi: and your stuck babysitting CanadaBoi: that must suck Becky: only until 5 CanadaBoi: what time is it now? Becky: 415 CanadaBoi: oh its 3:17 here Becky: were r u again CanadaBoi: im in canada Becky: i thought u were in california CanadaBoi: oh no Becky: how far is that from vt CanadaBoi: to far if ya ask me Becky: lol CanadaBoi: sarah baby what are you wearing right now Becky: clothes Becky: lol CanadaBoi: lol CanadaBoi: im wearing black silk boxers and a rad shirt CanadaBoi: red** Becky: i got to run bye CanadaBoi: ok Becky: chat later CanadaBoi: im gonna add you Becky: k CanadaBoi: later baby

Chapter 10

Barrie McNeil looked as if Rob Barrows had just spoken in Chinese. "What?"

"This is a search warrant," Rob repeated, shouldering him out of the way to enter the garage and allow access to Joe and four more deputies. "Look, it's not really your problem. This is your copy. Call the boss or whatever lawyer you have on tap. They'll know what it is. Meantime, we'll get to work." Barrows paused to add, "Unless you want to argue the point and be arrested."

Barrie raised both dirty hands in surrender, one now filled with the slightly crumpled document. "No, no. Knock your socks off. I don't give a shit. Dan will, though, and I will call him. Or my ass is grass."

"Go for it, then," Rob recommended before unleashing his team to find what they were all looking for.

The warrant covered any tools that might have been used to remove the now infamous tie rod nut, and any documentation, electronic and not, pertaining to the servicing of Leo's car. That latter part sent Rob and Joe directly to the decrepit-looking computer nestled in the corner of a cluttered and paper-strewn office.

Barrie, seeking whatever privacy he could amid the invasion, went to a phone in the service bay wall to call Dan Griffis, a task his body language clearly indicated he didn't relish.

Rob gingerly pulled out the lopsided, duct-taped office chair parked before the computer, and, after studying its seat for both springs and foreign matter, settled in to address the filthy keyboard.

"Jeez," he said softly as Joe pulled over a folding metal chair to join him. "Good thing they're building these things to resist wear and tear."

He shuffled the mouse under his right hand to illuminate the screen. A desktop surfaced with a cluster of different icons, spread out like colorful confetti. He'd barely double-clicked the first one when the office door banged open and Barrie appeared on the threshold.

"He is really pissed," he announced. "And he's gonna be even more pissed when he sees you guys on that thing."

"You talking about Dan?" Rob asked without looking over his shoulder at him.

"Well, yeah. Who else?"

"How long till he gets here?"

"Three seconds, the way he sounded."

Rob sighed slightly, keeping at his task. "How long?"

"Ten minutes."

"Okay. Send one of the deputies in here, okay? On your way out."

Barrie hesitated a moment, translating both the content and the meaning of that last request. He then vanished, to be replaced by one of Rob's team, an older officer with mostly gray hair.

"What's up?"

This time Barrows turned to face the man. "We're about to be visited by Dan Griffis, the owner."

"I know him," the deputy said in a near growl.

"Then you know what to expect. Keep him outside. Thanks."

Rob and Joe returned to the screen. Under the former's prompting, icon after icon began opening, revealing spreadsheets, correspondence files, financial records, inventory lists, and more, some of which was clearly recreational, such as games, and certainly one of which was password locked.

"What do you think?" Joe asked his guide when they hit that one.

Rob worked the keyboard harder, uncovering what he could about the file. "It's accessed a lot. I can tell you that much," he reported after a couple of minutes.

At that point they were disturbed by the sound of shouting from outside the building.

"That'd be Dan," Rob murmured, his eyes still on the screen. "You want to do anything about it?"

Joe straightened, considering the proposal. Initially, he saw no point. The man was worked up, he was being controlled by the deputies-or would be arrested-and discovering that Joe Gunther was part of the investigation would only be inflammatory.