Page 61 of Recovering Ivy

“Ready for a little B and E?” I asked.

“Hell, yeah.”

We made our way around the building to a side door and had both the deadbolt and the door lock picked in under a minute.

“Fucking amateur,” Declan said when I opened the door.

The many windows that ran along the wall near the ceiling provided enough light we didn’t need to turn on the overhead fluorescent fixtures. The warehouse wasn’t very big, a single story with one open floor. There was a palate of backpacks and one with corrugated boxes.

“Something's not right. He’s not making his drugs here. There’s not even tables,” Declan noted.

I walked to the stack of boxes and found one that had been opened. I reached in and pulled out a clear plastic tube of tennis balls. “What the fuck?”

“Tennis balls?” He peeked in the box before he stopped and counted. “Twelve boxes of tennis balls? Something's not right.”

My phone vibrated in my pocket. When I pulled it out and entered my security code, a message from Garrett appeared.

“Time to roll. Inbound. ETA three minutes,” I told him.

“There’s nothing here anyway,” he said, grabbing a plastic tube of balls and following me to the door.

Declan and I made our way out of the building, not bothering to lock the deadbolt. We watched from behind a nearby dumpster as Forester exited his car and a woman dressed in business attire stepped out of the passenger side. This woman was well put together, nothing like his normal companions. They made their way into the building and disappeared inside.

“Fuck, it smells back here,” Declan complained. “I sent Garrett her picture.” he told me and pocketed his phone. “If I had to guess, I’d say she’s the pimp, way too classy to be his woman.”

“I’d say you’re right, only she’d call herself a madam or some shit equally as…” Before I could finish my sentence, Forester and the woman came back out of the warehouse at a fast clip, both carrying boxes. Neither spoke and neither looked happy.

“They’re in a hurry,” Declan whispered. Once the boxes were loaded into the back seat, they got in and Forester pulled out of the alley. “What the hell was that?”

“Fuck if I know. Come on.”

We jogged out to the street where we left my car. By the time we got in, Garrett had sent Declan a workup on our mystery woman.

“Barbara Chase, forty-nine, priors include: solicitation, pandering, possession. And those are only in the last ten years. Before that she has: theft, B and E, assault, and grand theft auto.”

“Isn’t she a gem?” I commented. “Did he find a connection to Forester?”

“Not yet. Garrett is still working on it. Home address is in Grasonville. She has a business registered, Illusions, LLC, office address is in Edgewater. Pulling up the website now.” After a few beats Declan continued, “It says they are a fantasy fulfillment agency. Only thing listed is a phone number to book your illusion.”

“Well, if that doesn’t sound like a call-girl service I don’t know what does.”

I pulled away from the curb and headed in the direction of the office before I changed my mind and flipped a U-turn.

“I think we need to have another chat with Destiny.”

“What the fuck? We can’t just show up at her house. Forester might have someone on her and her kid is there.”

“Do I look like I’m wet behind the ears?”

A few minutes later we pulled into a nice, quiet, well-kept neighborhood not far from where Linc and Jasmin lived. The houses in this area would be far out of the price range of a single working mother.

“Who pays for the house?” I asked Declan.

“She does.”

“How the hell does she afford this neighborhood?” I pulled to a stop sign and shot Jaxon a text that we were pulling into the neighborhood. When my phone beeped with the all-clear, I continued.

“Really? You need to ask?” He grimaced. “Not only is she worried about her daughter, but you think she wants to give up all this for an apartment and a nine-to-five as a check-out girl?”