AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“No,” Greg admitted.
“How much for my Rolex?”
“Ten grand. That’s better than you’ll do online, too.”
Wow. “Tell you what. I won’t haggle if you let me see that driver’s license. And I’ll come back to buy the earrings.”
Lily returned with another box, and a smile. “Say yes, Dad. Three customers came in today, and he’s the only one who offered to help me.”
•••
I hustled back to the car and looked at the driver’s license on my phone. The photo showed a dark-haired man with a beefy face, large brown eyes, and thick lips. It wasn’t Barry Rigel, and so it had to be one of his co-conspirators. It wasn’t Muttonchops, either, so I might’ve wrongly accused him at the meeting.
I felt a shiver of excitement. The license identified the man as Elliott Thompson, 785 Moore Road, Exton, PA. I knew it was probably a fake name and address, but the picture had to be real. These thugs couldn’t fake the photo because Greg would have checked it when they left the earrings, like he checked mine. So at least I knew what the mystery co-conspirator looked like. If I spotted him driving anywhere around me, at least I would know I was in trouble.
Still, I’d have to double-check.
I started the engine.
I had ten grand and a tank full of gas.
I was back in business.
•••
I kept an eye on the rearview as I reached Moore Road, a suburban street abuzz with activity. Families piled into SUVs with kids in uniforms and cleats, unloaded reusable bags of groceries from hatchbacks, and mowed sun-dappled lawns. The leaf blowers were out in deafening force, which I hated. Leaf blowers are the only thing impervious to the Serenity Prayer.
I drove ahead, checking house numbers with ADT and Vector Security placards, looking for 785. I was in the low seven hundreds, so the Thompsons must have been at the end of the street on the left.
I continued down the block and spotted the Thompsons’ up ahead, a white clapboard colonial with yellow shutters and a fieldstone addition. A dump truck with a redgot mulch?sign was blocking the street in front of the house, about to reverse into their driveway.
I braked for the truck, but also watched as a man and a woman emerged from the house, presumably Elliott Thompson and his wife. One look confirmed my theory that the driver’s license had been fake. The Thompsons were Black, so definitely not the white thug who fenced my mother’s earrings. The man in the photo was Fake Elliott Thompson, but he was still a real co-conspirator.
The dump truck pulled into the driveway, and Thompson gave me a friendly wave, acknowledging my waiting. I wished I could tell him his identity had been stolen, but I’d have to let it lie.
I cruised ahead, getting an idea. There was a way to test my theory that Fake Elliott Thompson was Rigel’s co-conspirator, who could have been working for Stan, if Stan had been embezzling withLemaire. It struck me that conspiracies were like phone tag for criminals.
And this criminal had their number.
•••
“Lillian?” I said when she picked up. “How are you?”
“Okay. How’s Mango?”
“Wonderful, but that’s not what I’m calling about. I just texted you a photo of somebody.” I had sent her an enlarged picture of Fake Elliott Thompson, editing out the driver’s license. “Tell me if you recognize him, like maybe you’ve seen him around the office?”
“No, I don’t know who that is. Why?”
“I’m wondering if he might be one of Stan’s friends, from the old days.” I hadn’t filled Lillian in on my meeting with Daniel, nor did I want to. If Stan was involved in the conspiracy, the less she knew the better. “I know from my dad that a lot of his old friends visit the office.”
“They might, but I’ve only been there five years, and I sit in the back anyway. You’d have to ask somebody who’s been there awhile.”
“Like Mike Dedham?”
“Yes, he might know. He sits out front.”
“Do you have his number?”
