Tracy Hayes, Apprentice PI

Chapter Sixteen

Jarod woke up without assistance from me, dressed in his clean clothes, helped himself to coffee, and slumped on the sofa next to me. He looked like a different person – and definitely smelled better.

"Your background check came clean," I told him, and he looked delighted like I'd complimented him.

"Yeah? That was fast."

"I'm a PI. I have resources."

He became so animated he almost straightened up. "No way! That's like really cool. Can you, like, shoot people and stuff?"

"No one can shoot people," I said, annoyed.

"Bummer."

He looked so disappointed I felt compelled to add: "I have pepper spray."

"Yeah? Do you have, like, any interesting cases?"

"Just cheating spouses and a stolen dog."

"Who's it stolen from?"

"That's the thing, we don't know."

"So how do you know it's stolen?"

"We have the dog. We have criminals coming after him. We just don't know who he belongs to or why he was stolen."

"I bet I could find out."

I gave him a dubious look. "How?"

"With a creative data search."

"Is it legal?"

He mulled the question. "Probably not." He glanced around. "Do you have a computer?"

I got up and fetched my battered laptop that was a hand-me-down from Jessica. Jarod gave it one look and huffed. "I'll have to set you up with proper equipment. I can't work like this."

"Don't you have a computer?"

He slumped, morose. "My girlfriend broke everything I had with a baseball bat. She said I paid more attention to computers than her." I could absolutely believe that, and kind of understood her too. He got up, full of purpose now. "Come on."

"Where are we going?"

"To get you a proper computer." He gave me a look that said I was really slow not to figure it out.

"I can't afford one."

"Don't worry, it won't cost you anything."

A statement guaranteed to make me worry. But I decided to protest later and just followed him out.

We took the subway to Dumbo, an area by the East River in north Brooklyn, a bit of a hassle with two line changes, because there was no direct line there from the station nearest to my home. Despite its name it was the hottest area in Kings County. It didn't used to be, but a developer had got his hands on the place and changed it into a hub of art and tech startups.

Lexton Security had its base of operations on Jay Street, near the Manhattan Bridge, only a short walk from the station past old warehouses and factories turned lofts and artists' studios. There were two bars on the street with music blaring from their open doors and customers milling in and out. Each place was trying to outdo the other with some sort of post-ironic industrial slash slum chic, and the customers were so hip it made my head hurt. I'd waited tables in a place like those, the only job I'd quit voluntarily, after two weeks.

Our destination was an erstwhile two story redbrick factory turned into open plan offices. Jarod had explained on our way here that the company had recently upgraded their office laptops – those the secretaries and accountants and such used – and he had salvaged a few of the old ones and they were waiting for him in his office. While most businesses on the street had closed for the night, the lights were still on in there.