He hands me a printout of a local news article on a Schmidt shareholders’ meeting.Barely a thousand words, more formality than journalism.
“Couldn’t get further.Haven’t had time to hit the census office in Andover.Data’s not public.”He clicks his tongue.
“Of course they covered it up.But you’ve got other ways to track it, don’t you?”
“I could dig through court records for legal name changes.But that’s a grind.Three weeks, easy.And by grind, I mean…” He makes air quotes with both hands.“Intensive.”
“How intensive?”I arch a brow.
“Couple weeks in Andover.Lodging, gas, three meals a day, some… entertainment.Call it a grand.”
“I’ll front you three hundred now.Rest when you’ve got the name.”
“That won’t even cover the room.”He frowns.
“Then quit blowing cash on scratch-offs.Six hundred’s plenty to last you two weeks in Andover.”
I toss him three more hundreds.He scowls, but he takes them.That’s our relationship: transactional.Still, I can’t help worrying he’s sinking further into this lottery nonsense.Not close enough to recruit him into my company, but close enough to feel responsible.
“If you hit a wall, check Whitehill Academy’s student records.My old school.Check grads from about seven to nine years ago.Cross-reference birthdates, addresses, IDs.”
“You went there too?”His brows jump.
“Yeah.”
“But the name never rang a bell?”
“Not once.The only Schmidt I ever knew was Amy.Maybe you’ll find a connection with her.”
“Hmm.Interesting.I’ll poke around.”He rubs his chin, fingers grazing his trimmed beard.
“Alright.Call me when you’ve got something.Then I’ll square the rest.”I slide the docs back into the envelope.
“As soon as I can.”He clicks his tongue, stands, and then spins back toward me.
“Oh, one more thing.Might matter to you.”
“What’s that?”I get up, button my jacket.
“Malcolm Golden’s sniffing around Alan too.Ran into his assistant at the census office.The guy nearly tripped seeing me digging for the same name.”
“Recently?”
“Yeah.DUI verdict was just last month, remember?”
“What the hell is he after?”I mutter, frowning.
“He won’t say, but Golden’s not the type to let go.He’ll chew Alan down to the bone.You could team up, pool what you’ve got.”
“Team up with him?”I scoff.“Not a chance.”
I grab the envelope, shove the door open, and slam it behind me.Maybe Matt means well, but if my old man ever found out I was cozying up with Golden, he’d kill me before Alan ever could.
5
Shake It Hot!
Fenella
