“Dr. Crenshaw, sometimes, when Dr. Keel is away.”
“When was the last time he worked?”
The receptionist checked her computer. “Two weeks ago, when Dr. Keel went on vacation.”
“Does he have a key to the building? Security codes for the alarms?”
“Of course.”
Nothing on the Internet indicated another doctor sharing space with Keel. “What’s Dr. Crenshaw’s first name?”
“Harold.”
Harold. Harold Crenshaw. Salters tapped against the tablet screen.
“Thank you,” Johnson said, elbowing Lucky.
Mentally, he’d already started researching Harold Crenshaw.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
With Ty lying on the floor typing on his cellphone, Charlotte in the kitchen on hers, and Bo sitting in the chair on his iPad, no one in the house paid much attention to Lucky, except for the cat he’d removed from his keyboard a couple of times. He sat on the couch, computer competing with Cat Lucky for his lap. He’d finally found old plans for the warehouse, which predated modern alarm systems and other security measures.
Took too damned long. Was he losing his touch?
The guards kept to the loading area during the day. Any guard worth his gun would make rounds at night. Easy enough to avoid using a two-person team.
Searching the fictitious cleaning company still didn’t yield any results. He couldn’t quote Yolanda or give Walter a last name, but what she’d told Cruz gave him probable cause. Yeah, Lucky could now likely get a search warrant, but the reluctance to issue one before implied insider knowledge.
And interference.
On the outside chance he got caught by someone other than felons, he’d fall back on the probable cause defense. But that’d mean dragging a pregnant woman deeper into this whole mess.
He’d make sure to not get caught.
***
Lucky hated lying to Bo about as much as he hated the consequences if Bo found out he lied. To his credit, he managed to keep a straight face over the dinner table when he said, “After dinner me and Rett are sparring down at the gym.”
Bo continued chewing some kind of meat substitute, the name sounding way too much like “Satan” for Lucky’s tastes.
“Is there something you’re not telling me?”
Uh-oh. Lucky feigned innocence. Bo knew him too well. “Like what?”
Bo let out an exasperated-sounding sigh. “Like you hauling the latest crop of recruits to the gym like you did me to teach them a lesson.”
Oh! “Not yet. I figured I’d better make sure my skills weren’t rusty first.”
“Well, if I can’t talk you out of torturing rookies, tell Rett I said hello.”
What? No more questions? Slipping out to go snooping couldn’t be this easy.
Ty didn’t ask to go, probably still pissed at Lucky for taking his pills. Sooner or later Lucky needed to have a long talk with the boy’s mother.
He voted for later.
Unlike the previous nights, this time, instead of recon, Lucky planned a little breaking and entering. Hey, he wasn’t totally lying. Picking locks, gaining entry, and getting away without notice were effective methods of keeping his skills sharp.
