Suddenly, as a chain stopped the door after only a few inches, the music turned off, and a shrill alarm began to wail. Erica jumped back in surprise, running into Kevin.
Just as suddenly, the alarm shut off, and they heard someone inside yelling, “Sorry! Sorry!”
The door shut again, the chain clinked, and then they were greeted by Daryl Grotman.
He was about the same height as Kevin, but at least twenty pounds thinner. To Kevin, he looked starved. Although he was a junior in college, Daryl looked almost ten years older because of a thinning crown and wild, wiry beard. The only clue to his age was excessive acne visible above his heavy, black-framed glasses and on the scarred cheeks above his beard. He wore Birkenstock sandals, cutoff jeans shorts, and a black T-shirt festooned with tour dates for a band called Raging Sperm.
“There’s my doc! Look,” Daryl said, holding up his arms. “All healed thanks to you.”
“Hi again. This is the friend I was telling you about. Daryl Grotman, this is Kevin Hamilton.”
Daryl shook Kevin’s hand vigorously. “I hope you guys weren’t blown away by the alarm. I rigged the system myself. Been a lot of break-ins in this rat trap. I meant to turn it off ‘cause I knew you guys were coming over, but I got caught up with something. Come on in.”
Kevin followed Erica in and was so shocked, he practically stopped in his tracks. He was expecting to see pizza boxes littering the floor, trash everywhere, dishes piled in the sink. The way you think of a computer nerd living.
What met them was the cleanest, neatest apartment Kevin had ever seen. It wasn’t decorated to his taste, what with the posters of heavy metal bands like Butthole Surfers and Blood Junkies covering the walls and row upon alphabetically organized row of comic books. But otherwise, he could have walked into an issue of Better Homes and Gardens, albeit one which featured rooms with $20,000 worth of computer equipment. Looking back at Daryl, Kevin noticed how spotless his clothes looked.
“Yeah, I know,” said Daryl. “Not what you pictured. I guess I’m just anal. Some of my friends think I’m kinda weird for it. Helps in my line of work, though.”
“What is your line of work?” asked Kevin.
“I thought Erica told you. I fake licenses. Sometimes other documents, passports, state IDs, but mostly licenses. I can do visas for six countries, but they take longer.”
“She did tell me. That’s why we’re here. But I didn’t think it was a business.”
“Well, it’s not something I’m going to do for the rest of my life. It sure helps pay the tuition, though. Computer science major, if you didn’t guess, although I’m getting a minor in criminal science.”
“Looks like you’re acing it,” Kevin muttered.
“How do you get so much business?” Erica asked, glaring at Kevin. “Aren’t you afraid of getting caught?”
“Not really. You see, I also work at one of the school’s mail rooms. My orders come through there from practically every school in Texas and Louisiana. All I do is pick out the envelopes addressed to my business name.”
“Which is?” Kevin said, knowing Daryl would tell them anyway.
“Dave Zugot. It makes it easy to pick them out of the pile. You know, I don’t do too many of these in person.” He pointed at Kevin. “You’ve got to be older than 21.”
“Actually, I need a different name on it.”
Daryl nodded as if familiar with the request. “Ah. Anyone in particular?”
“Yeah. A guy I’m trying to play a joke on.”
“Sure. Can I see the photos?”
Kevin handed them to him. After a quick inspection, Daryl slapped them onto a scanner and began to tap on the keyboard. Three minutes later, Kevin’s picture was on the computer monitor. A minute after that, Kevin’s face was superimposed over a Texas Department of Public Safety background curtain.
“Behold,” said Daryl, “the wonders of photo manipulation software in all its glory.”
“I have to admit,” said Kevin. “That’s pretty amazing. You’d never know it wasn’t taken at the DPS.”
Daryl smiled. “It slices, dices, juliennes, but wait there’s more.”
Erica pulled out her license and compared it to the picture on the screen. “That’s incredible. But how do you do the hologram on the plastic covering?”
“Not a problem. I’ve got a thousand just like that.” He showed them a box with hundreds of plastic sheaths, all carrying the holographic imprint of the state of Texas.
“Where did you…”
“That’s a little touchy. Let’s just say that there was a mixup at the printing plant and a few thousand too many were made. Now! How do you want the license to read?”
Kevin spoke. “Michael Jason Ward. Just make up the address and social security number. The phone book doesn’t have his new address yet, and I don’t know how we’d get his social security number.”
“You obviously haven’t gotten the picture, Kevin. It’s not a problem. Not many comp sci majors don’t know how to hack that kind of info. If you have a couple of minutes, we can make your license look like the real thing. It’ll take a little longer if you want his actual license number. The state computers are a little tougher than the credit bureaus.”
Kevin shook his head. “The social security number and address are good enough.”
Two minutes later, Kevin was looking at the credit record of his professor, complete with card numbers, outstanding loans, and personal information.
“Holy shit!” said Kevin. “Erica…”
“I see it.”
Kevin couldn’t believe it. On top of payments on a Mercedes and a Lexus, Ward was three months into a home loan worth $750,000. He was already a month behind.
“Man, you guys must be in some serious shit.”
Kevin recoiled. “What do you mean?”
“Well, it’s none of my business, but you must either be desperate, greedy, or weird to be impersonating a guy who died yesterday. And the last two don’t fit Erica. Besides, a college professor doesn’t make that kind of money.”
Kevin and Erica exchanged worried looks.
“You’ll still help us, won’t you?” she asked.
“Hey, I’m not throwing any stones. Look around. I was just making an observation.”
“We don’t want to get you involved,” said Kevin, his tension easing. “What I mean is, we are in a shitload of trouble, so you’ll understand if we don’t share much with you.”
“No problem. I’m not sure I’d want to know anyway.”
“Can you print that out for me?” Kevin said, pointing at the credit report on the monitor.
“It’s already in the printer. So’s your ID. All we need to do is have you sign it, and then laminate it.”
“I’d like to ask another favor from you, Daryl,” said Kevin, as he signed the fake license.
“Shoot.” A homemade lamination heater gobbled up the paper license inserted into the holographic plastic sleeve.
“We were thinking earlier that we shouldn’t be using our credit cards because the records might be available to the people that are after us.”
“Smart move. If they have a halfway decent hacker, they can get into your credit card company’s database as easily as I accessed the credit bureau. Tracking you that way would be a cinch if you weren’t careful.”
Kevin looked at Erica, who furrowed her eyebrows in a puzzled expression. “Then maybe you can help us get a little breathing room.”
CHAPTER 14
After they finished their business with Daryl, Kevin and Erica needed to get supplies so they could hole up for the night. Kevin would have to treat his contacts, but his lens storage case and cleansers were at the apartment. They found a Wal-Mart and bought his supplies as well as a change of clothes for the two of them.
They’d decided not to call their friends, not only because they didn’t want to endanger them, but also because they didn’t want to go anywhere they might logically be found. That meant they had
to lie low for the next day and a half. They would retrieve whatever was in the safe deposit box when the bank opened on Monday morning.
Erica wheeled the Honda into the back parking lot of the seedy-looking Tidal Moon motel. They would have stayed at a nicer place, but this was the first one they’d found that didn’t require identification. The grimy man at the registration desk made them pay cash up front.
While Erica dumped their meager belongings on the bed, Kevin locked the door behind them, then peeked through the torn and spotted drapes. From their first floor viewpoint, he could see that it would be difficult to spot the car from the road. Satisfied, he pulled the drapes so they were completely closed. Although it was safe for now, he didn’t want to get complacent.
Erica announced that she wanted to take a shower before she ate and began running water in the bathroom. Ravenous, Kevin opened the bag from Antone’s and began munching on a shrimp po-boy.
As he ate and sipped his drink, he watched TV to see if he could find any more news on Dr. Ward or Herbert Stein. He saw stories about each of them, but nothing more than they had learned earlier. Apparently the police were still treating the fire as an accident without ruling out the possibility of arson.
Kevin sat dejected, listening to the water run in the bathroom. He tried to understand the reason for what was going on, but the more he thought about it, the more confused he got. He could now reasonably assume that Dr. Ward and his wife were murdered. But why? What was in the safe deposit box that somebody would kill for? How did Dr. Ward get the money to buy that house and car? And why did he write that email to Kevin? They wouldn’t find out the answers to any of the questions until Monday morning.
The worst part was that he had dragged Erica into this with him. He thought about leaving, doing the rest of it himself, but how would that help? Erica was already involved up to the hilt. She wouldn’t be any safer without him than she would be by staying with him. Besides, once they had more proof — whatever that was — together their story would be much more convincing than from either of them alone.
The water shut off, and Kevin heard Erica take the towel and begin to dry herself.
“Any news?” she said from the bathroom.
“No, nothing new.”
She came out with a towel wrapped tightly around her, accentuating her figure. It barely reached her legs. Despite being exhausted, both mentally and physically, by the day’s events, Kevin couldn’t help feeling both turned-on and embarrassed at the same time. She grabbed the extra-long T-shirt she had bought and retreated to the bathroom.
“I’m starving,” she said. “I hope the sandwiches are good.”
“Of course they are. Haven’t you ever had a po-boy?”
Erica came out of the bathroom, her hair still wet. The T-shirt was almost as revealing as the towel. “You forget. I didn’t grow up in Texas.” Using the wrapper as a place mat on the stained table, she sat and began to eat one of the sandwiches. “Hey, these are good.”
“See. You should trust me.”
“I’ll take that under advisement.”
“Good. Now it’s my turn.” Kevin took his shower while Erica finished her po-boy. After he was done, he put on a T-shirt and boxers from their stop at the store.
When he came out of the bathroom, Erica was lying in bed holding the remote.
“Now I remember why I stopped watching TV,” she said, turning it off and putting the remote on the nightstand.
“I thought it was because of med school.” Kevin pulled a pillow off the bed and walked over to the chair.
“That too. What are you doing?”
“Getting ready to go to sleep.”
“Over there?”
“Yeah. Well, you know, one bed…” He shrugged. “I thought…”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not going to make you sleep in that chair.”
“You sure?”
“I just took a shower, so I can’t smell too bad. Are you afraid I’m going to bite you?”
“No, just trying to be chivalrous.”
“Well, stop it. We’re both adults. Now come on.”
Kevin climbed into bed as Erica switched off the lamp. The bed seemed even smaller now that he was in it. Erica was only a foot away.
“Isn’t that more comfortable?” she said.
“Mm-hm,” Kevin responded, although he felt extremely uncomfortable. She was turned towards him, her light breathing raising the hairs on his neck, the warmth of her body flowing to his.
“Do you think we’ll get out of this?” she said, her voice groggy with fatigue.
Kevin wanted to lie and say that everything would be all right, but he didn’t think she was asking to be reassured. She wanted the truth. “I don’t know. If we can get into the safe deposit box, I think we have a shot at it.”
“Ha ha.”
“Sorry.”
“That’s okay. I’m too tired to think about it any more anyway.” Within a minute she was asleep. She had the med student gift for being able to sleep anywhere at any time.
Kevin gazed at her profile outlined by the weak light coming through a crack in the curtain and envied her. He stayed awake a long time.
* * *
“This is it,” Lobec said, pointing at the Best Western. The last of the twilight was dwindling. The clock on the bank across the street flashed 9:03.
“You sure?” Bern replied, turning the rental car into the motel’s parking lot. “Mitch said there were two along this strip.”
“He also said it was the one closest to the interstate. The next one is almost in downtown New Orleans. Furthermore, it matches the directions from the airport. Go in and see if they are here.”
Bern climbed out and lumbered into the lobby. Lobec saw him flash his police ID. That seemed to get the clerk’s attention, and he began tapping at the computer’s keyboard. After a few minutes, Bern trotted back out to the car.
“This is it, all right. But they haven’t checked in yet. Probably just getting some dinner first. I’ll bet we have them in less than two hours. What do you think?”
“I will be surprised if it’s this easy.”
“Man, you’re hard to please. Mitch said they made the reservation at this motel six hours ago, guaranteed it with the girl’s credit card. Then they stopped in Baton Rouge for gas two hours ago, also paid with the girl’s credit card. What more do you want?”
“I want them in this car with us. When that happens, I will be satisfied. Not a moment earlier.”
Lobec was right to be cautious. An hour and half passed with no sign of the couple. He was thinking that he’d wait another half hour and no more when his cellular phone beeped.
“Yes.”
“It’s Mitch. Thought you might like to know. Erica Jensen just canceled the reservation at the Best Western. She also just charged $11.58 for gas in Biloxi, Mississippi five minutes ago.”
“Has she made any other reservations?”
“No. But if they stay at another motel without making a guaranteed reservation, all they’ll do is make an imprint tonight. It won’t be run through the machine until tomorrow morning.”
“That’s no good. They’ll be gone before we can get to it. They must be going this way for a reason. Check to see if they have any family or friends in the area.”
“I’m already searching the Biloxi area for matches.”
“No. Search Mississippi, then Alabama, Georgia, and Florida.” Lobec heard muffled curses at the end of the line. “Anything else?
“Yeah. Jensen called the hospital to tell them she wouldn’t be in today or tomorrow. At their apartments, one call was made to each answering machine. The one to Hamilton’s was a guy named Nigel asking if he wanted to grab some dinner. The one to Jensen’s was a telemarketer. Neither machine was checked for messages.”
“Do we have the trace set up?”
“All ready. The machine doesn’t even have to answer. I love Caller ID.”
“Fine. Advise me when you have
something.”
Lobec terminated the signal and began to dial another number.
“Who’re you calling?” Bern asked.
“The Gulfstream.”
“We going back to Houston?”
“No. Biloxi.”
CHAPTER 15
For the next day and a half, Kevin and Erica bided their time until the bank opened on Monday morning. They drove around or ate in quiet out of the way restaurants, any place where they wouldn’t see familiar faces, then spent another awkward night in a motel.
Kevin had looked in the phone book on Sunday and found that there were seven First Texas branches within five miles of the campus. Luckily, Daryl was as skillful as he claimed and helped them find the correct branch. Ward had only one deposit box with First Texas, but no accounts or loans. The bank was located in the Village, next to the Rice University campus, and the safe deposit box had been leased only two months before. Ward had used a different bank from the one he normally patroned near South Texas. No one would know he had the box unless they knew where to look. At ten after nine on Monday, Erica stopped the Honda next to the huge bank’s front entrance.
“This shouldn’t take long,” Kevin said, glancing at his watch. He was supposed to be at the graduate school an hour ago to meet with Dean Baker. “Damn!”
“What?”
“Nothing. I’m just ready for this whole business to be over with. I hope your idea works. The last thing we need is for them to call the police.”
“I guess it’s possible the bank officer knows Ward, but I doubt it. They get people opening and closing boxes all the time. This branch is so big, you probably won’t even get the same person that helped him lease the box.”
“Probably. Thanks.” Kevin pulled in a deep breath. “Cross your fingers.”
Kevin stepped out of the Honda and walked into the immense lobby. Even at this early hour, the bank was bustling with activity. Several lines were already forming at the teller windows, and well-dressed men and women moved about with determined authority. Kevin was dressed in a polo-type shirt, khaki pants, and loafers. He had bought the clothes yesterday in the hope that they would make him look more like someone who would have a safe deposit box.
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