by Mary Stone
Ellie’s forehead wrinkled in concern. “Why would he be going into your apartment when you’re not there?”
Jillian shrugged. “I’ve complained about it, but he does it anyway. Claims he smells something and goes in with little more than a knock on the door.”
Ellie’s green eyes grew sharp, laced with indignation. “He can’t just go into your apartment without proper notice. There are regulations that prevent him from acting like an overlord instead of just a landlord.”
“He gets around them by claiming there’s an emergency. It’s a thing, I checked.”
“And how many emergencies have forced him to go into apartments without proper notice?”
“This year?” Jillian blew out a sarcastic huff of air. “It would take all day to list how many times it’s happened.”
Ellie sighed, hooking her purse strap over the back of her chair. “The fact that you can say that two months into the year means he’s doing it far too much. He’s the problem, not Sam.”
“I agree, and so do all the neighbors.”
“I don’t understand why Sam is an issue now anyway. Haven’t you lived there since she was a puppy? What’s she, like five now?” Sam was still lying on the floor, her eyes going back and forth between Ellie and Jillian, as if she knew exactly what they were saying about the problem.
“Six.”
“So, she’s six, and now she’s an issue. That doesn’t make sense.”
Jillian bent over from the chair and began to gather the pens. “She wasn’t an issue when I moved in, but Michelle was my first landlord. When she passed away, her sons took over. About a year ago, they decided the rental business was too much for them and sold the property. We got a new landlord then.”
“Well, any agreement you had would’ve been grandfathered in and holds true for the length of your residency.”
“I know that, and so does he. But if I leave or if I get rid of Sam, I can’t ever get another dog. Not that I would ever replace Sam, but the guy actually suggested I get rid of my ‘elephant dog’ and buy a teacup chihuahua. The original agreement was for one black lab mix.”
Ellie’s mouth dropped open. “The nerve of that man.” Her declaration earned her a single thump of approval from Sam’s long tail.
“I know. He doesn’t understand why I can’t just trade her in for a smaller dog. Like she’s a car or something. He spent half an hour trying to convince me.”
“I’m surprised he lasted that long.” Ellie laughed. “I’m betting your expression was shooting daggers at him.”
“I don’t doubt it. I’m great at watching what my mouth says, but my face has a mind of its own.”
“I know the feeling.”
“Anyway, now he’s demanding that I drop her off at doggy daycare when I’m at work.”
“Is he going to pay for it?” Ellie quirked up an amused brow as she settled at her desk.
Jillian allowed herself a little laugh, even though talking about the situation had her stomach in knots again. “I thought about asking him, but he has no sense of humor.”
“He sounds like a real peach.”
“It’s been miserable living there since he took over. No one is happy, and a lot of residents have left as soon as their lease was up.”
Ellie nodded in agreement. “You should move too.”
“I want to, but he didn’t start this until after I renewed my lease for a year. I have eight months left before I can move out.”
“Just break your lease. If he wanted people to stick around, he wouldn’t be such an ass.”
Jillian pursed her lips, choosing her words carefully. She knew Ellie came from money and elite family trappings, and that while she meant well, Ellie had no idea what it was like to live paycheck to paycheck.
“I know that seems like the right thing to do, but we can’t all just up and move if we don’t like something. Most of the apartments in the city have a size limit on dogs. If they allow big dogs, they cost an extra two hundred a month. Plus, if I leave before my lease is up, I’ll forfeit my deposit, and he can take me to small claims court for the rest of my lease. I can’t afford that, and I definitely can’t afford to move into a more expensive apartment and pay an additional two hundred dollars a month on top of the rent increase. I know it seems so simple to just leave, but we’re not all as lucky as you.”
Ellie’s lips parted, and her cheeks turned the softest shade of pink.
Jillian braced herself. She hadn’t meant to insinuate that her friend was out of touch with the real world when it came to finances.
But when she finally spoke, Ellie’s response was all kindness, and Jillian was left fighting back tears when she’d expected defensiveness from her wealthy friend. “You know what? I didn’t think about that, and I’m sorry. I forget how lucky I am sometimes, and my parents have taken care of so much in my life, I didn’t even think about deposits or small claims court.” She pushed a piece of red hair behind her ear. “I’m going to be honest, I didn’t even know that apartments could charge you a monthly fee for having a pet. That seems ridiculous, but I’m sure there’s nothing you can do about that, either. Your landlord is horrible, and living like that sounds awful, but you’re right, you can’t just leave. I’m sorry I was so flippant.”
“Thank you for understanding.”
“If there’s anything I can do to help, let me know. And again, I’m sorry.”
“I know you didn’t mean it the way it came out. Before I was out on my own, I never would’ve thought about those things.” She rolled her eyes at herself. “I didn’t even know I had to put the water and electric in my name if I wanted either. That was a fun realization. Luckily, Michelle was an angel on earth, and she helped me get my electric and water set up when I called her three days later to ask when she was turning it on. You’re not the only one whose parents sheltered them from real life.”
“That’s a little bit different, but thank you for giving me an out.” Ellie grinned, reminding Jillian that Ellie was used to the knocks that came from being raised with a silver spoon and then putting on a uniform and gun. “Sam doesn’t bother me, so if you need to bring her every day, I won’t say a word to anyone. The worst they can do is ask you not to. If someone gives you crap about it, I’ll give them crap right back. She can be our office mascot.”
“Thank you.” Relief flooded through Jillian, to have someone on her side for once. Working in the basement, surrounded by men, made life a little unfriendly at times. And then to go home to a crazy landlord was too much. She was thankful for Ellie. “I’ve got to try and find another solution, but for now, this is all I have.” She wrinkled her nose. “Enough about my obnoxious landlord. I want to show you what I’ve been working on.”
Jillian scooted her chair closer to the desk so she could reach the keyboard, snapping her fingers. Sam moaned her disapproval before getting up and going to her spot under the desk, collapsing in a heap.
A few seconds later, a loud snore reverberated from under the desk, and Ellie stifled a laugh.
Their eyes met, and Jillian blew out a huge sigh. “Moving on. A friend of mine develops software, and she’s letting me beta test this program. It took some doing, but I finally got approval to use it on our cold cases.”
She pulled up the menu and clicked on an icon—a silhouette of a male and female in profile, facing away from each other with the backs of their heads pressed together. “This is Entity. It might get another name later on, but it’s basically a program that takes a picture or a police sketch and runs it through every photo on the internet to find a match.”
Ellie pulled her chair up beside Jillian’s, green eyes intent on the screen. “How is this different than Google Images?”
“Google Images searches for a specific photo or similar image. If you have a picture of someone’s face tilted or partially obscured, your standard search engine results are going to be a little skewed. But Entity can take any angle of a face and match it to probable photos no m
atter what the angle is. I watched my friend testing it at her home, and it’s pretty accurate.”
“That’s pretty cool.”
“It’s not the best part.”
Ellie’s bright green eyes lit even more. “There’s a best part?”
Jillian smiled and nodded. “It takes a little more time, but Entity can get into password protected websites and compare your picture to images you can’t usually access.”
Beside her, Ellie sat up straighter and leaned forward. “You mean…?”
Jillian nodded. “Even the dark web.”
“But how?”
“I’m not privy to that information.” Jillian leaned back and put her feet on her sleeping dog under the desk. “I got the impression the fewer questions I asked, the better.”
“That’s some next-level spy stuff.” Ellie flashed her a bright smile. “I can’t wait to see what it does.”
“I was thinking we could use it not only to identify our Jane Does but maybe to find places online where their image has been shared by people who shouldn’t have their photo.” When Ellie frowned, Jillian hurried to explain. “There are all these forums online where people brag about things they’ve done, and they post photos of their victims. Everything from assaults to murders. Some of these people are complete posers who just want to be special, as sick as that is. But there are places on the dark web where people are sharing horrifying things. If anyone is sharing photos of our victims they shouldn’t have access to—”
“Then we may be able to identify suspects in cases where we have almost no evidence,” Ellie finished. “That could help us solve dozens of cases in almost no time. And cases in which there is no hope of identifying the victim, the case could actually be solved with just a body.”
“That’s what I was thinking. There are still some bugs to work out, but it’s more advanced than the software we currently use.”
“Isn’t that software only tied to interdepartmental files uploaded to a specific server?”
Jillian nodded. “Yes. Right now, we have to run separate manual searches through every database. Entity alleviates that but will only work on the internet. Law enforcement databases are not accessible, even with how advanced Entity is. Once I’ve tested the software and my friend applies for a patent, she’ll sell the software to the Department of Justice in hopes that it will be utilized all over the country.”
“Whoa.” Ellie’s eyes widened. “That’s a huge undertaking.”
“It is, which is why I’m hoping this will do more than just lighten our workload.”
“When can we start?”
Jillian checked the time on her phone and frowned. “It’s a little late today, and I have to get Sam to the pet sitter’s house for the night.”
“Pet sitter?”
“A friend offered to keep her for a couple days so I can breathe. The landlord has been claiming that Sam is barking, and people are complaining even though I’m right there, sitting in my apartment, and she’s asleep at my feet. If she’s not there and I have proof, I’m hoping I can convince him to stop. I just need a moment to take a breath, you know?”
“I understand. I don’t want to overstep, but if you want me to help—”
She held up her hand. “It’ll just make things worse. Right now, I’m trying to keep the peace and focus on getting this program up and running. If I’m not worried about Sam, I can concentrate on that. It’ll be ready tomorrow at the earliest, fingers crossed.”
“It’s a lot to set up?”
“I have to format it so it works on my operating system.”
Ellie shot her a cute-face, one that said she was impatient but she would be nice about it. “Does that take a long time?”
Jillian hoped not. She had never loved her job so much since Ellie came along and let her work on cases with her. She was excited to be able to provide some leads. “It’s the first time Entity has been used outside of the controlled system my friend tested it on, so there’s really no telling. But as soon as it’s up and ready to go, we can start on some of the cases we’re close on.”
Ellie groaned. “Except Fortis is on my ass about this hunting accident case.”
“We can add that one to the list.”
“True, but identifying him is only half the battle. I need to piece together what I can from the evidence and see what else I can figure out about the case. Fortis doesn’t expect much more than identification, since the death was already ruled an accident, but I don’t want my name on it if I don’t do my best to find out more than the last detective did.”
“I can understand that. You want to leave a legacy to be proud of.”
“Exactly. And John Doe deserves to rest, assured that his killer has met justice.”
“I’d feel the same.” Jillian leaned back and stretched her arms before getting to her feet. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, and we’ll hope Entity is ready to go?”
Ellie nodded. “And I mean it. If I can do anything to help with your situation, let me know.”
“Thanks.” Jillian grabbed her purse and clipped a leash to Sam’s collar where she lay. Sam grumbled, eyes rolled upward, her head pressed to the floor. When she sighed, her lips flapped, and she rolled onto her side dramatically. Jillian tugged on the leash, and Sam didn’t move. “Come on, Sam.”
Ellie laughed. “I think you broke her.”
Jillian tugged, and this time, Sam hoisted herself up onto her feet and followed Jillian to the door. Jillian waved to Ellie before ducking out the side door and going straight to her car with Sam.
She drove across town to the pet sitter’s house and parked on the street. Sam sat frozen in the passenger seat, facing forward as if she knew where they were and could will the car forward.
Jillian reached over and patted Sam’s back. “I’ll be back to pick you up after work tomorrow.” She stuffed a treat under Sam’s nose, a bribe. “It’s only temporary, until I figure out what to do.”
Sam harrumphed and gave Jillian a baleful look that broke her heart. But it didn’t stop Sam from gobbling up the treat or Jillian getting out and leading the dog up the walk. “Buck up, sunshine,” Jillian muttered to both herself and Sam.
The pet sitter came out of the house, all smiles, eager to take Sam for the night.
“I’m sorry.” Jillian petted her again, thankful that Sam adored her sitter. Things were hard enough without Sam whining miserably in a kennel or at some doggy daycare, lost in a jumble.
“You can leave her here longer if you need to,” the sitter offered, but Jillian was already shaking her head.
“No. I’ll be back to get her tomorrow after work. Thanks again. I just need to figure out what to do.”
“I’m here if you need me.” Sam licked the sitter’s face, and she cooed at her.
“I appreciate that.” Jillian hugged Sam one last time before she hurried to her car and made the long drive back to her apartment. It was the third time in the last week her landlord had thrown such a fit that Jillian was forced to find somewhere else for Sam to stay, and Jillian was over it. She had to find a solution and fast. She couldn’t afford to keep paying someone else to take care of her dog, but she was quickly running out of options.
Worried, she pulled into her parking space at her apartment building, bracing herself for another uncomfortable confrontation with her landlord. They were going to have to resolve this and soon, or Jillian would have to find somewhere else to live.
She wasn’t going to let the man bully her into getting rid of her dog.
5
It was amazing the people who came into my office and spent forty-five minutes prattling on about their lives. Their struggles. How the world didn’t get them. Assuring me they were here to grow, as they blathered on ceaselessly.
Never listening.
Never considering that maybe nobody liked them because they were simply unlikeable.
They paid out of pocket for my services, because heaven forbid the chance someone might dis
cover they’re seeing me. As if insurance companies would take note and wonder why such a successful person needed to see anyone.
Sometimes they even used assumed names, filling out forms with blatant lies that were as obvious as their lack of substance. They thought themselves clever, as if they were the first to ever hatch the idea of seeking me out under an assumed identity. And they flirted shamelessly with my Gabe. As if they were the only ones.
Into my office they traipsed, haughty, long-winded, and positively boring.
I scoffed inwardly at my present client’s display, careful not to let my face show my disgust. Like all the others, his money was as good as anyone’s, and his vanity saved me the trouble of chasing an insurance company for payment. He got to pretend he was special, but it was I who was winning. Because in all this constant babbling, he never once paused to reflect or to seek my counsel.
Clients like him never noticed when the timer sounded that I hadn’t uttered a word. They just wanted to be heard without judgment, without a single consequence for their horrible, self-serving thoughts. They paid me to write on my notepad, always assuming that I was taking notes about their interesting life. Or how mind-blowing their encounter with “Debbie in accounting” was. How the world was truly out to get them when all they wanted was to live their pitiful lives.
I despised every last one of them.
Given half the chance, I would’ve gladly thrown each of them out the window to end their struggles. But they paid cash, never batting an eye when my darling Gabe quoted a price four times the standard rate. They prized their anonymity, and rarely actually used their puny brains.
Then there were the others. Eyes betraying their discomfort, arms wrapped around themselves for protection. I was just a quick stop in a long stream of others just like me, and they knew more about the ins and outs of their insurance coverage than Gabe did, bless his little heart. They were the helpful ones. Demure. Self-deprecating. Humble.
I spent each session drawing information from them with great care. Picking and pulling to ream out the root of their problems was one of my favorite things to do. Not because I cared whether they worked through their issues or not. I found these people to be the most interesting. It’s the quiet ones you had to watch out for.
