moved the box over in front of them, holding it gingerly with a pair of tissues. “I’m sorry. Our receptionist touched it when she brought it in. Kind of remarkable when you think about it, that no one took it.”
“Why would they?” Lei said as they looked at the box—a nondescript square. Ken snapped on rubber gloves, picked it up, lifting the flaps to look inside at the contents—bundled cash and jewelry matching the description of what had gone missing in the most recent hit.
“Lei, can you get the receptionist’s fingerprints, so we can rule them out?”
“Sure—but just a minute.” She reached inside her jacket for the driver’s license photos of Rezents, Kinoshita, Blackman, and Matthews, slid them across the desk to the director. “Seen any of these people?”
“Yes.” The director tapped the photo of Blackman. “He’s been our guest recently.”
“Is he still here?”
“No. Checked out last week, said he had a line on a place.”
“Any idea where that is?”
“Check with the receptionist. She has the clients fill out an exit form. Maybe he left some information on that.”
“Anything you can tell us about him?”
“Angry young man. Our social worker tried to counsel him, but he refused. Seems like he thinks the world owes him something.”
Ken scooped up the box, and the director peered at him over his reading glasses. “We’re going to ask for that donation to be honored.”
“That’s your business,” Ken said. “We will return it to the owner when we’re done using it for evidence, and what he does from there is between you.”
Lei hurried back down the hall to the receptionist. “I need your prints to rule you out on the box and any information you have on Tom Blackman.”
“Oh, Tom?” The receptionist seemed to perk up, and Lei noticed she was an attractive young brunette with a skull tattoo on her breast bobbing distractingly in and out of her neckline. “Is he in trouble?”
“No. We just heard he might have information related to a case we’re working on.” Lei opened her box for the fingerprint kit. She rolled the girl’s fingers across the pad and onto a card. “Do you know where he went after he checked out?”
“I have the exit form.” They finished the fingerprinting and Lei handed her a wipe. She rubbed her hands and opened a file cabinet, took out a bulging file. “We don’t do a lot of paperwork here, just an intake and exit form basically. He didn’t leave an address.” She pointed with a purple-tipped nail at the empty line.
“Did Tom tell you anything?” Ken had joined Lei.
“Yeah, he said he had a place with a friend from the airline. Said it was going to be a little crowded, but just until he got on his feet and got another job.”
Out at the car, Lei looked at Ken. “I know we need to take the box back in and check it over, but do you think it’s worth another drive out to Rezents’s place? I mean, those guys are around the same age.”
“I was actually thinking we should look for Rezents’s mother’s last-known address. Blackman isn’t from here, but Rezents is. Maybe the mother will know something.”
“Good idea.” Lei punched up Shawna Rezents on the Toughbook. “Got something here. She’s not far away, if this address is still good.”
Ten minutes later, Ken pulled the Acura into a potholed driveway in front of yet another sun-blasted apartment building, narrowly missing a blond woman running out the door. The face Lei saw flash by the window was the once-pretty, hard-used kind.
A portly man pursued her, and Lei opened her door, blocking him. “Can I help you?” she asked, stepping into his way as Ken bolted after the woman in the driver’s license photo they’d just been perusing.
“She owes me rent!” the man yelled. “Stop her!”
Ken had a hand on the woman’s arm, and as Lei and the landlord watched, they spoke. Then he took his hand off, releasing her, and she broke into a jog, moving rapidly
“Why would they?” Lei said as they looked at the box—a nondescript square. Ken snapped on rubber gloves, picked it up, lifting the flaps to look inside at the contents—bundled cash and jewelry matching the description of what had gone missing in the most recent hit.
“Lei, can you get the receptionist’s fingerprints, so we can rule them out?”
“Sure—but just a minute.” She reached inside her jacket for the driver’s license photos of Rezents, Kinoshita, Blackman, and Matthews, slid them across the desk to the director. “Seen any of these people?”
“Yes.” The director tapped the photo of Blackman. “He’s been our guest recently.”
“Is he still here?”
“No. Checked out last week, said he had a line on a place.”
“Any idea where that is?”
“Check with the receptionist. She has the clients fill out an exit form. Maybe he left some information on that.”
“Anything you can tell us about him?”
“Angry young man. Our social worker tried to counsel him, but he refused. Seems like he thinks the world owes him something.”
Ken scooped up the box, and the director peered at him over his reading glasses. “We’re going to ask for that donation to be honored.”
“That’s your business,” Ken said. “We will return it to the owner when we’re done using it for evidence, and what he does from there is between you.”
Lei hurried back down the hall to the receptionist. “I need your prints to rule you out on the box and any information you have on Tom Blackman.”
“Oh, Tom?” The receptionist seemed to perk up, and Lei noticed she was an attractive young brunette with a skull tattoo on her breast bobbing distractingly in and out of her neckline. “Is he in trouble?”
“No. We just heard he might have information related to a case we’re working on.” Lei opened her box for the fingerprint kit. She rolled the girl’s fingers across the pad and onto a card. “Do you know where he went after he checked out?”
“I have the exit form.” They finished the fingerprinting and Lei handed her a wipe. She rubbed her hands and opened a file cabinet, took out a bulging file. “We don’t do a lot of paperwork here, just an intake and exit form basically. He didn’t leave an address.” She pointed with a purple-tipped nail at the empty line.
“Did Tom tell you anything?” Ken had joined Lei.
“Yeah, he said he had a place with a friend from the airline. Said it was going to be a little crowded, but just until he got on his feet and got another job.”
Out at the car, Lei looked at Ken. “I know we need to take the box back in and check it over, but do you think it’s worth another drive out to Rezents’s place? I mean, those guys are around the same age.”
“I was actually thinking we should look for Rezents’s mother’s last-known address. Blackman isn’t from here, but Rezents is. Maybe the mother will know something.”
“Good idea.” Lei punched up Shawna Rezents on the Toughbook. “Got something here. She’s not far away, if this address is still good.”
Ten minutes later, Ken pulled the Acura into a potholed driveway in front of yet another sun-blasted apartment building, narrowly missing a blond woman running out the door. The face Lei saw flash by the window was the once-pretty, hard-used kind.
A portly man pursued her, and Lei opened her door, blocking him. “Can I help you?” she asked, stepping into his way as Ken bolted after the woman in the driver’s license photo they’d just been perusing.
“She owes me rent!” the man yelled. “Stop her!”
Ken had a hand on the woman’s arm, and as Lei and the landlord watched, they spoke. Then he took his hand off, releasing her, and she broke into a jog, moving rapidly
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