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She lifted her brows. “Or so he said? You don’t believe him?”
Burke shrugged. “He doesn’t have a family, as close as we can figure. He could have simply used that as an excuse, but the timing sucks for us.”
“The timing is interesting, for sure,” she murmured. “Gabe, is there anyone that your father might have confided in? Who was the executor of his estate?”
“His attorney, unfortunately.” Gabe sighed, his hurt at not being named executor clear on his face. “But there is Aunt Gigi.”
“I traced John Alan Industries to Gabe’s aunt,” Burke explained. “After a little untangling, she shows up as the president, but the address on record is a UPS box in Baton Rouge.”
“Oh?” She straightened, feeling a little surge of energy. “I assume you already tried to get in touch with Aunt Gigi, or you would have led with that.”
Burke snorted a laugh. “Got her voice mail, so we left a message. Her voice mail says she might call us back if she’s not doing anything more important.”
How rude, she thought, but was glad she didn’t voice the words because Gabe’s lips turned up, just a smidge.
“She’s feisty,” he said affectionately. “I think she’d like you all.”
She was glad to see that tiny smile. It erased some of the worry lines from his forehead. “I’d love to talk to her, then, when all this is over. But for now, we should drive to Baton Rouge and check the mailbox.”
Burke shook his head. “I already checked Rocky’s key ring. Nothing that looks like a key to a UPS box.”
“Well, shit,” she grumbled. “That would have been too easy, I guess. Maybe the lawyer has a key. Has Antoine found anything on the laptop or the SIM card Rocky left in his car?”
“I called Joy at the office.” Burke shrugged. “She says that Antoine told her to tell me to leave him the hell alone until he was done. That you ‘can’t rush the process,’ whatever the hell that means.”
Molly sighed. “That sounds like Antoine. Don’t call us, we’ll call you.” The man was one of the smartest she’d ever met, but he wasn’t the best at communicating with people. She turned to Gabe. “Since we’re not going to Baton Rouge, when are we leaving for Houston to talk to Cicely Morrow and her son?”
Gabe glanced at his watch. “As soon as we can. I was going to let you sleep a little more, but I’m anxious to get out there. If we leave in the next little bit, we can make it to Houston by midafternoon. Definitely before dark.”
“Before dark is optimal. Let me see what you’ve found, Burke.”
Burke turned his laptop around so that she could see his screen. It was the result of the background check that she should have done herself during the night but hadn’t gotten time to do before her brain crashed into sleep.
She’d seen the photo of Cicely Morrow, so she focused on Xavier. The newspaper photo they’d found was his senior picture from high school, the attached article discussing his academic achievements and the partial scholarship he’d earned to Rice University. Xavier was young, clean-cut, his hair buzzed on the sides and a neat mohawk colored blue and gold. The school’s colors, she realized from another photo embedded in the article. His smile was vivid, his eyes bright.
He looked happy. He’d also volunteered like crazy throughout high school, according to the article. Key Club, Meals on Wheels, tutoring homeless teens at the LGBT youth shelter. He seemed, like Gabe had indicated, a nice young man.
“Have you found his birth certificate?” Molly asked.
“Not yet,” Burke answered. “I was just about to do that.”
“Race ya,” she said, grabbing her own laptop and passing Burke’s back to him.
“What are you doing?” Gabe asked suspiciously.
“Looking for Xavier Morrow’s birth certificate,” Molly told him. “Don’t worry, nobody will trace this search to you. We use a VPN to maintain our privacy.”
Gabe scowled. “Is it legal?”
“It’s public record,” Burke said evasively.
“You’re hacking,” Gabe said flatly.
“We’re expediting the process using Antoine’s search engine.” Molly met his gaze. “Otherwise, it’ll take a long time. I don’t think we have a long time to wait.”
Gabe nodded, looking unconvinced.
Molly’s fingers flew over her keyboard, but Burke was a hair faster. He claimed victory seconds before her own screen filled with the image of Xavier Morrow’s birth certificate.
