Nothing In Common, Except ...

by Edward Kendrick

  “Whom shall I say is calling,” she asked.

  “Donald March, with Financial Advocate Magazine. We’re doing a story on accounting firms.”

  “I’ll connect you,” she replied.

  A moment later Brax was talking with a Mr. Daniels. He gave him the same spiel he’d given the receptionist, then said, “One of the firms we’re featuring is SKG&P, CPAs. It’s my understanding Connoisseurs uses them. I’d like to ask you some questions about them.”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. March, but you’ve been misinformed. We use Stoffer, Mayers, and Company. If you’d like to know about them, I’d be happy to answer any questions.”

  “Thank you, but they’re not one of the firms we’re interested in. Sorry to have bothered you.” Without waiting for a reply, Brax hung up, just as Judd walked into his office.

  “What’s on your agenda for the day?” Judd asked.

  Brax replied with a mock groan, “Background checks,” eliciting a grin from his partner. “Then a meeting with Mrs. Collins to go over what she needs in the way of security on her newest shop.”

  Judd made a talking motion with his hand, saying, “That should keep you busy for a few hours. I swear, that woman can’t shut up.”

  “No kidding. But it’s worth it. She’s willing to pay for a top-of-the-line system.”

  Judd nodded, then said, “I’ll be back by noon,” before taking off.

  As soon as Judd was gone, Brax looked up the address for Stoffer, Mayers, and Company, before returning his attention to what paid the bills for his own business with a muttered, “Damned background checks. God, help me.”

  * * * *

  The minute he left work, Brax called Kyle. “How do you feel about doing a little B&E?” he asked.

  Kyle chuckled. “I have no problem with that. You found Connoisseurs accountants?”

  “Yep. Let’s grab something to eat, first.”

  That worked for Kyle, so they met at a downtown restaurant close to the accountant’s offices. It was after seven when they finished. Then they walked the two blocks to the building housing, as Kyle insisted on calling it, S&M and Company. When he’d dubbed it that, Brax had said, in amusement, “I wonder if they even thought about the fact people might abbreviate it to that, and what it means?”

  The building was an older one, with no front desk in the lobby. On the wall between the two elevators was a list of the tenants. S&M was on the fourth floor. When they got to the office door, Brax took a jammer from his messenger bag, activating it. It would shut down all the security, including any cameras and motion detectors, within a sixty-five-foot radius.

  “I’ve got a toy like that,” Kyle commented.

  “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Brax replied with a brief grin as he studied the lock on the door. It was an older one, which he figured it might be, given the age of the building, so he had no problem getting it unlocked with his electronic pick while Kyle listened for any indication that someone was coming—especially a possible security guard.

  After putting on latex gloves, and handing a pair to Kyle, Brax opened the door and they were in the reception area. He closed and locked the door, and then they went into the first of two offices. Since the windows faced the alley, and the drapes were drawn, they didn’t worry about anyone seeing the overhead light when Brax turned it on after shutting the door.

  “We’ll check the file cabinets first,” Brax said. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and I won’t have to hack the computer for Connoisseurs’ files.”

  The cabinets were locked, but Brax made quick work of rectifying that problem.

  “Nothing here,” Kyle said after checking all the files in two of the cabinets.

  “Same here,” Brax replied, so they went into the second office, repeating the process.

  “Well, damn,” Kyle grumbled. “I won’t get to watch you break into their computers.”

  “I take it you found what we need?”

  “Yep.” Kyle took a thick file labeled Connoisseurs from the cabinet. Setting it on the desk, he handed Brax half the contents, cautioning him not to change the order of the papers. Brax rolled his eyes, and they set to work.

  “I’m going cross-eyed,” Brax said a while later.

  “You and me, both. Spreadsheets are no fun. But I’ve found three possibilities.”

  “Let’s see. I’ve come up with zilch.”

  Kyle showed him the names, saying, “I was working on the theory that Ms. Gardiner might have used the same initials for her working name as her real one.”

  “Semi-logical. I’d bet this is her.” He pointed to Grant, Lynn.

  “I agree. Adalynn…Lynn. Makes sense. Now we need an address for her.”

  Brax flipped through the rest of the papers Kyle had given him. “We’re in luck. There’s a short list of mailing addresses. Probably for the girls who don’t work out of the bordello, per se.” He wrote down the address for Lynn Grant, then they put the papers back in the file and Kyle returned it to its place in the cabinet.

  Brax locked the cabinets, turned off the light, did the same in the other office, then they left the suite—and the building.

  When they got to their cars, Kyle asked, “Do we want to pay her a visit tonight?”

  “Yes. Presuming she’s at home. Given what she does for a living, that could be iffy at best.”

  “No way to know except try. I suggest we drop your car off at your place and take mine.”

  “Same logic as last time?” Brax said, getting a nod from Kyle.

  They did, then drove to the address they had for Ms. Grant. It turned out to be a very impressive high-rise apartment building in one of the wealthier sections of the city.

  “The lady lives well,” Brax said. “Maybe I’ll switch careers.”

  Kyle snorted. “I don’t think you’d pass the physical.”

  “There are such things as male escorts,” Brax replied, grinning. “Still, I don’t think I’ll change vocations.”

  “I wouldn’t, if I were you.”

  By then they’d walked to the front entrance.

  “Do we go in legit?” Kyle asked.

  “I’d rather not have my face on the video,” Brax said, gesturing to a security camera pointed at the call-buttons by the door from the entryway to the lobby. “I say we wait until someone gets off the elevator, so we can see the interior, and grab it.”

  That took a few minutes, but finally they got lucky. One set of elevator doors opened and a man and woman exited. The moment the doors closed, Brax and Kyle teleported into it, then Brax pressed the button for the tenth floor, where Ms. Grant had an apartment.

  “Now comes the big question,” Kyle said, looking at the door to 1006. “Is she home?”

  “No light coming from under her door. Not that that means anything. She could be entertaining company in her bedroom.”

  “If we had a visual…”

  Brax walked to the window at end of the hallway, peered out, then said, “Give me a minute and we will.” He vanished, returning two minutes later. “Balconies are great things.”

  Kyle chuckled. “Don’t I know it?”

  Brax raised an eyebrow. “Used mine to get into my place, huh? Unfortunately, she doesn’t have one so we’ll go in the normal way, so to speak. From what I saw, from the balcony on the next building, she’s not home. Or if she is, she’s asleep, which is doubtful at this hour.” Brax took his jammer from his bag, activating it. When he deemed it safe, he gave Kyle a visual of the living room, then they were inside.

  Before they did anything else, they stood silently, listening for movement that said Ms. Grant might be in one of what they presumed were bedrooms, behind the two doors off the hallway next to the living room. Because they were shifters, their hearing was acute enough they would have heard even the sound of breathing.

  “We’re good,” Kyle said softly. “Let’s make ourselves at home until she gets back.”

  “And scare the shit out of her when she comes through the doo
r?”

  “It is what it is. Besides, her being frightened will give us the initial edge. Of course, if she has company…”

  “Hopefully, that won’t happen,” Brax replied. “But if so, you take him, I’ll deal with her.”

  With that said, they settled in to wait. It was almost two in the morning when they heard a key turn in the lock. Brax moved swiftly to stand beside the door as it opened, effectively hiding him from view. A woman was silhouetted by the light from the hallway as she came in, stopping long enough to turn off the security box. Then she flipped on the lights for the living room—and gasped in shock.

  “Who the hell are you?” she asked.

  “Someone who needs to talk with you,” Kyle replied, from his seat on the sofa.

  At the same time, Brax pushed the door closed, saying, “We’re not here to hurt you, but if you scream…” He left the end of his statement to her imagination.

  For a moment it seemed as if she was going to anyway. Then she looked at Brax, obviously realized he was much taller than her, and quite muscular. She slumped in resignation, saying, “Take whatever you want and get out.”

  “We’re not here to rob you,” Brax replied. “As my friend said, we just want to talk. So, have a seat. Oh, and give me your cell phone.”

  “Like hell,” she replied, striding across the room to sit tensely on the edge of the chair facing Kyle, her small purse clutched tightly in one hand.

  “Please do as he asked,” Kyle said. “We’ll give it back when we leave.” He smiled ingratiatingly.

  She sighed, shrugged, then took it from her purse, tossing it to him. “Now what?”

  “Now we talk,” Brax said, sitting at the other end of the sofa from Kyle. He took an envelope from his jacket pocket, extracting a photo to hand to her. “Blackmail is not a nice game to play.”

  “How did you get your hands on this?” she asked tightly.

  “From the man in the picture. He’s understandably upset.”

  “That’s what he gets for screwing around behind his wife’s back.” She smiled smugly. “He actually talked about leaving her to be with me. As if. Fat, pious…” She rolled her eyes.

  “You’re a very pretty lady,” Kyle replied. “I can see why he’d want to, Adalynn, or do you prefer Lynn, when you’re not working?”

  “Whatever.” She turned her attention to Brax. “If you think I’m going to get up off the originals, and the negatives, forget it.”

  He smiled. “You won’t, because you can’t. You don’t have them. Your boss does.”

  “Yeah. So trying to bully me isn’t going to get you anywhere.”

  “Then we’ll take you with us and go have a talk with him.”

  She paled, waving one hand in front of her. “Uh-uh. No way.”

  “Scared?” Brax asked.

  “You have no idea,” she replied, sounding frantic now. “You should be, too. Mr. Russo’s no one to fuck around with. So should Mr. Frye,” she added, shaking the photo at Brax.

  “Lynn,” Kyle said quietly, “Calm down. We won’t do that, if you help us.”

  She took a deep breath, asking in a tremulous voice, “Help you? How?”

  “Do you have any idea where he’s keeping the negatives?”

  “Maybe at Connoisseurs. Do you know where that is?” When Kyle nodded, she continued. “He’s got a safe in his office, behind a painting of a seascape.” She wrinkled her nose. “It’s really awful. I saw it, the office I mean, when he had me come by to meet a man he wanted me to ‘date,’ as he puts it. While we were waiting for the guy, Mr. Russo got called away and I sort of snooped, the way I do when I’m at a client’s house.” She shrugged. “I’ve always been nosy. That picture was crooked, so I went to straighten it and found the safe.” She barely smiled, saying, “That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. Anyway, the negatives could be in there, or at his house.”

  “Have you ever been to his home?” Brax asked.

  “Yeah. Several times. He uses it to entertain some of the wealthier patrons from Connoisseurs. He’s got…Okay, maybe you know this. He’s got a stable of girls like me who work on an outcall basis, not at the bordello.”

  “We figured you weren’t the only one,” Kyle told her. “When you were there, did you get a chance to wander around?”

  “The parties are held in the living room and on the patio. He has security people who make certain no one goes anywhere else, except if they need to use the restroom.”

  “That didn’t answer my question,” Kyle pointed out.

  She almost smiled. “Caught that, huh? I was at one of his parties, about a month ago. I was supposed to hook-up with…Well, who doesn’t matter. It was bigger than the usual ones Mr. Russo holds, so, being me, and bored with the guy I was with, I told him I needed to go to the bathroom. One of the security guards took me there, because that’s what they’re supposed to do. I was just going to kill some time in there—it’s pretty fancy with a couple of chairs and all. Anyway, when I left, the guard wasn’t waiting so I took the chance to do some exploring, since I always wondered what the rest of the house was like. And I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

  Kyle chuckled. “Sort of, but that’s all right, if you found what we’re interested in.”

  “Maybe. There’s an office, almost as large as the one at Connoisseurs’. I sort of nosed around, checking out the books, and some of the pictures on the wall. God, his taste is art sucks.” She grimaced. “I peeked behind them, and, yeah, one of them was hiding a safe.”

  “So that’s two places the negatives could be.”

  She nodded. “You’re not going to be able to get into the house, though. He’s got security up the wazoo, same as at Connoisseurs. Which is funny, really, since he’s almost never at the house, except to sleep or to host his parties. He doesn’t even have any servants, just hired help for the parties.”

  “What do the offices look like?” Brax asked her. As she described them, he picked the images out of her mind. Glancing at Kyle, he knew from his intense expression that he was doing the same thing.

  When she finished, she said, “Have I been any help at all?”

  “Very much so,” Kyle replied. “At least we know where to start looking.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees as he stared at her. “Do you mind if I ask one more question?”

  She shook her head. “Ask, although I have a feeling I know what it’ll be. How did a nice girl like me end up working for Mr. Russo?”

  Kyle smiled. “Exactly.”

  “I was broke, working the streets. He pulled up beside me one night, in his fancy car. Asked…well, the usual questions. When he agreed to my price, I figured what the hell and got into the car. Instead of wanting sex, he began giving me a spiel about how I could do so much better if I’d agree to work for him. It took a lot of talking, but he convinced me and here I am.” She didn’t sound at all happy about that.

  “Have you ever considered getting out?”

  “I wish I could,” she replied despondently. “Working for him is a lifetime contract, until you get too old. Try to break away and…I had a friend who decided she’d had enough.” She touched her face. “Scars here, and on her body. She killed herself a couple of months ago.”

  “I’m sorry,” Kyle said softly. “If things work out, and we find the negatives, maybe we can help you break ties with him and find a safe place to live.”

  She frowned. “Are you with the government, that you can do that?”

  “No. But I have connections.”

  “If you could…”

  “I’ll try. I promise.” Kyle glanced at Brax, asking, “Is there anything else we need from her?”

  “Just her promise not to tell Russo that she’s talked with us.”

  “I won’t, I swear. He’d kill me, after he killed the two of you.”

  “And we don’t want that to happen,” Brax said as he stood. “We’ll let you know if we find the negatives.”

  “Thanks.” She got up as well,
walking them to the door. “I hope…”

  “We’re telling the truth?” Kyle said. “We are.”

  She nodded. “Be careful.”

  “Always,” Kyle replied, opening the door. “You, too.”

  As they walked down the hall, they heard her door close and lock behind them. At that point, they teleported to where they’d parked the car and drove back to Brax’s place.

  “I say we hit up his house, first, but not until tomorrow night,” Brax said.

  “Why first? Okay, never mind. The bordello is the first place he’d expect anyone to look. But if he’s smart, he’s got copies of the negatives both places, so we might want to hit both of them tomorrow night, before he realizes they’re missing.”

  “Good idea. It’s late, so why don’t we meet at my apartment after I get off work tomorrow. Say, six-thirty. We’ll make plans and go from there.”

  “Works for me. See you then.”

  Chapter 6

  “I hope you’re a good safecracker,” Kyle said, moments after Brax let him into his apartment at six-thirty Thursday evening.

  Brax smirked. “I think that’s what’s known as a rhetorical question, or statement. After all—” he looked innocently at Kyle “—I do install them for clients, and I’ve tested each one to make certain that the average, or even above average, thief can’t get into them.”

  “Still not going to cop to anything more than that,” Kyle replied, unsure whether he wanted him to or not. He was beginning to respect the man standing in front of him. It didn’t negate the fact that he was certain, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Brax was an art thief. But at the moment, he didn’t care.

  “Nope, because there’s nothing to cop to.” Brax walked into his office, sitting at his desk then booting up his computer as he waited for Kyle to join him. Opening a cloud program, Brax downloaded a file marked Security—2231 West Cornell Ave.

  “Put your hacking skills to use?” Kyle asked.

  Brax waggled his hand. “Let’s just say I posed as a governmental entity who is interested in some of Russo’s less than legal activities. I convinced my counterpart at the security company he uses that we, meaning the government, were planning a raid on Russo’s home and it would be very helpful if we knew what we’d be facing when that happened. Of course, being a cautious man, he checked up on me first.”