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Baggy Uniform glanced at Evie and opened the passenger door. He produced a clipboard and shoved it at Jax.
The work order came from DVM, not the city. Jax took a photo and pretended to call someone in authority while Baggy Uniform tapped his foot. Delaying so Reuben had time to do his thing, Jax spoke into his dial tone and wandered farther from the van. The work order had no recognizable signature. He’d have the guys investigate once they were out of here.
But it was very much looking like he couldn’t eliminate crooked voting machines as motive for murder or suicide on either coast.
Baggy Uniform was on his phone when Jax turned around. Reuben still hadn’t appeared. Evie pointed at the road they’d just traversed. Jax recognized the sheriff’s car approaching and rolled his eyes. The one time he did something just the slightest bit illegal... and Evie pulled the law on him.
BU looked startled but not wary as the sheriff’s car rolled to a stop behind the rental truck, blocking its exit. Troy stepped out, and Evie leaped down from the van’s hood.
“Better than screaming for me, I suppose,” Troy admitted truculently. “Why is anyone here?”
“Because they’re stealing the city’s machines.” Evie beamed brightly.
Jax handed the sheriff the moving company’s invoice. “These guys probably don’t know that. They’re just following orders. But they had keys to get in here.”
“And you’re here, why?” Troy wasn’t a stupid man. He studied the invoice and began punching in the number of the moving company.
“Inspection of the voting machines before an election.” Jax hesitated. He was accustomed to working within the law but not revealing all he knew unless required. Telling the sheriff that they expected trouble would be an open invitation to questions.
“Mavis said there was bad juju here,” Evie offered. “So we came as support, and a good thing, too.”
“Look, we get paid by the job,” BU argued. Bug Ugly worked as well as Bulky Uniform. “We need to get outta here and on the road.”
Talking to someone on the other end of the line, the sheriff held up a finger for them to wait.
Jax eased over to check on the situation inside the storage shed. Reuben was helping the mover to add the last machine to the trolley. What the...?
“Machines need trashing.” Reuben blithely walked out and joined Roark at their van. They slammed the rear doors... which had been open to the entrance of the warehouse, on the far side of the much larger rental truck, easily concealing whatever Reuben had been doing—while Evie distracted the driver.
Jax bit his tongue. The sheriff scowled when Roark pulled away, but he knew where to find his team. The movers were a different story.
Jax joined Evie in leaning against the truck while the sheriff was on the phone. “How did you get here so fast?”
“Bikes go where cars can’t.” She pointed at the hill behind the fence. “Path back there goes straight up to city hall. When someone forgets their keys, they just jog up there and get a spare. Cars have to drive all the way around to take the highway bridge over the flood zone.”
“So anyone can get the keys? That’s a stupid way to run a business.” Disgruntled, Jax glared at the barely visible path through the weeds of an open field.
“That’s a small town for you. We know each other. They wouldn’t hand keys to a stranger.”
“So someone at city hall gave those keys to the movers?”
“Or someone in city hall made copies when they shouldn’t have,” she admitted. “Internal controls are lax.”
“How do you know about internal controls? Did you take accounting classes?” Jax knew he should never underestimate Evie, but she did such a fine job of pretending she was a halfwit that it was occasionally difficult to know what was behind the provocative smile and orange mop.
“I’ve worked for just about everyone in this town. One of them was Geoff Hayes, the CPA, your landlord. I learn things.”
“And you know how to get into my office without asking,” Jax concluded, just as the sheriff stuck his phone in his pocket.
Evie beamed. Troy scowled and gestured for the mover to return to business.
Jax lifted a questioning eyebrow.
“Clancysigned the work order—the day he died. I’ll have to call every blamed person on the council to see if he was authorized. I’ve told the company to hold the machines until then. They’re not happy. How the hell do you two get mixed up in these things? Besides Mavis.” Troy grimaced as he said the name.
“Do you really want to know or would you rather just call the council?” Jax asked. If Clancy had signed the work order... that was a whole different level of knowledge he probably shouldn’t keep to himself.
Troy glared. “I want to know.”
