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“Nothing right now,” I admit. “All of these screens have something going on. I’ve got alerts set up for different traffic cameras. I have two programs trying to trace the IP address of whoever hacked the security footage, but none of those things are quick fixes.”
Shane nods. “Maybe we need to find these college kids and this mystery woman who claimed she had Conor’s baby?” he says.
“Conor’s baby?” I stare at him open-mouthed.
“It wasn’t. We’ll explain later,” Shane says with a sigh just as Mikey walks back into the office with a tray and a coffee for each of us.
“I heard you two coming back up,” he says to Shane and Conor as he sets the tray down and hands each of us a drink. “You get anything from the kid with green hair?”
“No,” Shane shakes his head. “Seems like he was just some random that they chose to deliver a message.”
I lean back in my chair and blow on my hot coffee. “Not entirely random, though?” I arch an eyebrow at them as Mikey sits next to Conor.
“What do you mean?” Shane frowns.
“He had a green Mohawk, right?”
“Yeah,” Mikey replies.
“How many guys do you see walking around your club, or even New York, with a hairstyle like that?”
“Not many,” Mikey agrees.
“Are you suggesting we're not capable of getting information from people, Jessie?” Shane scowls at me.
“No,” I shake my head. “Not at all. I’m sure he had none to offer and really was just a messenger. But why choose a guy with a green Mohawk? Why not pick someone who looks… well, average? Someone who doesn’t stand out in a crowd?”
“You think they wanted us to be able to find him easily once we realized what had happened?” Shane asks.
“Yes. Exactly that.” I nod as I take a sip of my coffee. “So, that your efforts are wasted interrogating some kid who genuinely has no clue what has gone on instead of focusing on the people who do.”
“Fuck!” Conor says as he runs a hand over his face.
“So, who did have a clue what was going on?” Shane asks.
“No idea.” I glance over at Conor and Mikey. “All three of you were distracted by young, attractive women, right?”
“Not me, Red,” Mikey winks, unable to resist using humor to mask his emotions now that he is able to function again. “Mine was a guy with green hair.”
Conor nudges him in the ribs and rolls his eyes. “Yeah. So?”
“But the guy with the green hair was approached by a young woman too. One he described as hot, right? That’s no coincidence either, is it? I suppose those women could have been in on it, or could have been selected at random and paid off? I mean, there is no shortage of hot young women at your club, is there?”
“That’s not really much help, sweetheart.” Shane arches an eyebrow at me.
“It is though. Because it’s a pattern, isn’t it? Patterns are important because they are formulaic. The devil is in the detail, Shane Ryan. Has no one ever told you that?”
He stares at me as though I’m talking Spanish. “That particular pattern might be important and it might not, but identifying things like that helps me process. You have your methods of information gathering and I have mine,” I shrug.
“I feel kind of helpless sitting here doing nothing and just watching you work though,” Shane says and Conor and Mikey nod their agreement.
“You are helping,” I say as I go back to my screen and continue my search. “Mikey, can you go through the footage in the club and track the two drunk college girls? Take screenshots of people they have more than a minute of conversation with, and then we can look into each of them.”
“Okay. But that could take ages, Red.”
“I understand that. But how else are we going to find out who these people were working for?”
He nods and sits at the laptop.
