Page 73 of The Body in the Backyard
Riley stroked a hand through his short hair. “You’re not an actual suspect, are you?”
“Of course not. Weber was just being a dick about me being a dick.”
“You know, you two might get more accomplished if you stopped antagonizing each other and worked together,” she pointed out.
“I would rather gargle dish soap and eat those leftovers your mom sent home with us.”
“So that’s a no then?”
“Weber’s probably going to show up here later to question both of you since you were on the scene,” he said.
Mrs. Penny rubbed her hands together. “It’s been a while since I got to outfox the five-oh.”
“Yeah, well, it gets worse. We still have to solve this case if we want a snowball’s chance in Costa Rica of getting paid. If Gentry was the intended victim and he ends up dead, his corpse sure as hell won’t be shelling out any cash.”
“To the whiteboard!” Mrs. Penny said, pointing a finger in the air.
Nick got to his feet and pulled Riley up.
Mrs. Penny scrambled her legs around on the floor and grunted, reaching for her cane.
“Need a hand?” Riley asked.
It took her, Nick, and two farts to get the eighty-year-old on her feet.
Mrs. Penny brushed them off and jogged out of the room, waving her cane. “We’ve got a Code Cold Burrito, people!” she yelled.
“Brian,I need you to get into Larstein’s security system and see if you can pull up whatever footage the cops got their hands on,” Nick said, pointing a stick of beef jerky at the whiteboard that was covered in photos and his spidery scrawl.
An all-hands-on-deck meeting called for snacks, according to Mrs. Penny.
“On it. I’ll park the van out front and see if I can slip through the Wi-Fi,” Brian said before shoveling a handful of sunflower seeds into his mouth.
“Is it really that easy?” Riley asked.
“Sure. As long as this guy never changed the Wi-Fi password from the ISP and he’s broadcasting his SSID with no encryption,” Brian said.
“Uh-huh. Yeah. That’s what I was going to say,” Mrs. Penny said, squinting at her iPad through bifocals thicker than encyclopedias.
“Sure you were,” Nick said before continuing. “I also need a background check on this Henry personal assistant guy. He was on scene but out of the room when Larstein got dead. He’s got access to Gentry’s house, and he hates working for the miniature pain in the ass.”
Brian gave a thumbs-up.
Nick slapped the beef stick to the next name and photo on the list. “Gabe, I need surveillance on Chupacabra Jones. Again, she’s got access to the house and seems to genuinely like both Gentry and Goodshine, which makes her suspicious. Josie, you’re on Claudia Mendoza. I want to know if she even breathes in Gentry’s direction.”
Josie was eating cereal doused with chocolate milk out of a glass mixing bowl. “You got it, boss,” she said with an enthusiastic crunch.
Nick circled a long list of names with the jerky. “The rest of you will divvy up these suspects and take turns following them. You will immediately report any and all suspicious activity as it relates to this case. Do not be suspicious. Do not get caught. If you do get caught, do not admit that you were following anyone. Do not utter my name. Do not tell the nice police officer or building security that you’re working for a PI or that youarea PI.”
He looked pointedly at Mrs. Penny, who was too busy examining the screen of her tablet to notice.
“What’s my assignment?” Riley asked.
“I’m glad you asked, Thorn. Since your readings seem to get more accurate the closer you are to someone, you’re going to be getting up close and personal with our top suspects.”
Riley perked up. Usually Nick was too protective to let her get too involved in the investigations. Now, not only was he embracing the whole my-girlfriend-is-a-psychic thing, he was giving her an honest-to-goodness, real-deal, I-respect-your-value-to-this-business assignment.
“I will, of course, be going with you everywhere,” he added.
