That would seem to be some kind of financial person’s business.
I went back out to my bike, which admittedly looked pretty junky—I just buy old used ones so when they get lifted it’s not a big deal—and got on it for a leisurely ride back to my office.
Viti looked up from her laptop when I walked in. She was straight-up mortal, but she’d been working with me long enough to know me in any shape, unless I’d gone really deep—something I avoided, unless absolutely necessary, because going that deep into a form meant that I might lose track, myself.
“Grey,” she said, “we need better internet.”
“It’s expensive,” I said.
“Then I need a boss who isn’t so cheap.”
“Harsh,” I said, “and creating a hostile work environment. Keep it up and I’ll report you to human resources.”
“I’m the only human here,” she said.
“Hmm. You have a point. Draw it from petty cash.”
“Do you mean from the ten thousand in cash in your desk drawer?”
“I do,” I said.
She frowned for a moment and then said, “Oh. You’re attempting humor again.”
“Thank you,” I said. “I accept your apology.”
Viti gave me an exasperated look and followed me into my office. I sat down at my desk, took about half the stack of bills from the drawer, and slid it across to her. “I assume better internet is expensive.”
She took perhaps a quarter of that and slid the rest back. “This will do.”
I tucked it back into the drawer. “What did you find?”
“Little,” she replied. “Stunningly, a skilled accountant working for organized crime is quite apt at concealing his financial affairs.”
I leaned back in my chair and pursed my lips. “Did you find a Cammy anywhere?”
“I did not.”
I nodded. “See what you can find out about a company called Acumen, Inc.” I told her about Cammy.
“Interesting,” Viti mused absently.
She vanished to her desk. I’d done my part of the legwork, so I let her do hers, fired up my game console, and spent some time battling digital aliens.
She appeared a bit later and said, “Acumen, Inc. is owned by a Ms.Cameron Montecrist.”
I hit pause and lifted my eyebrows. “Oh ho.”
Viti frowned. “Oh ho?”
“I can’t say ‘ah hah’ every time,” I said. “I’ll sound like a jerk. I assume her last name isn’t a coincidence.”
“Correct. Ms.Montecrist is Mrs.Petty’s younger sister.”
“Heh,” I said. “Heh, heh, heh.”
“What’s so funny?”
“Right now, I’m guessing,” I said. “But what an ugly little triangle we have going.”
