Page 15 of Hemmed

“Fuck, I’m sorry, Nelly.”

“No, it’s alright. Every time I see something like this, it reminds me that this was a good thing. Can you take it? Maybe sell it for me or something?”

“We’ll do that, honey. Anything else you need?” asked Miller.

“Thank whoever it was that put up the added security on the long driveway. I didn’t want to complain to Sor, but it did bother me being out here alone. Also, they brought a bunch of food from someone named Mama Irene. Totally unnecessary, but it was delicious.”

“That’s our mother,” smirked Jean. “She’ll be happy that you enjoyed it.”

They left the young woman feeling as though she were on the road to recovery. Perhaps when all this was done, she would be able to start a new life somewhere else. By the time they arrived at the office, Code had the videos set up for them to review from the security cameras.

“Let’s start with Thurston,” said Code.

“Is that his real fucking name?” frowned Miller.

“Afraid so. Apparently, his parents were fans of the old shipwreck show with the rich dude and his wife.” Jean and Miller stared at him. “What? Hayes found it in a birth announcement in the society pages.”

“Rich people,” laughed Jean, shaking his head.

“Brother, I hate to tell you this, but if anyone knew what was in our bank accounts, we’d be classified as rich people. We just haven’t figured that out yet,” laughed Code. “Anyway, the cameras at his office show a lot of activity the last few weeks. Two days before the party at the mansion in the Garden District, Cara and Craig show up hand in hand, as you can see. They go into the office and close the door to Thurston’s office which, lucky for us, has a camera.”

“At first, the two men appear deep in conversation, but Cara isn’t involved. She’s looking at her phone, texting someone back and forth, then showing them something on the screen. Hayes was able to narrow in on the texting.”

Please be out of the house by the time I get home. I don’t want this to be messy, Mark. Just leave.

Fine. You’re doing me a favor.

You’re an asshole! I should have never married you.

Same. Good luck with Craig, Cara.

“Gotta love that he knew everything,” smirked Jean. “I hate that he went through that shit, but at least he wasn’t caught off guard. Craig obviously had never seen the brother if he didn’t notice who he was at the party. Big ass bastard to piss off.”

“Agreed,” said Code. “Thurston opens the safe and puts a few things inside, but you can see stacks of cash, both U.S. and foreign currency. It looks like there are some passports in there as well. I’ve notified TSA and Homeland to be on the lookout for fake passports with their photos.”

“Good job,” nodded Miller. Code nodded, moving to the next photo montage.

“I placed the videos in sequential photos so you can see each act more clearly. I know it’s kind of an eye chart to see, but it actually helps. It appears that Thurston and Craig, or at least Thurston, wanted to cover his own ass. There are multiple printed e-mails and text messages in the folders in front of him. I can only make out a few, but it looks like someone was directing them to add more cameras at different sites. The sender is from an e-mail that doesn’t exist any longer. I suspect they’re rotating e-mail addresses so that no one can track them. But we will.”

“Would either one of those idiots know how to install cameras?” frowned Jean.

“No. Absolutely not, which means that someone else is involved. These cameras had to be placed properly and without detection. The ones placed, uh, in and around toilets make my head hurt. They would have to be pinhead cameras, which are easy to find these days but also waterproof.”

“This is just sick,” muttered Miller. “How were they making money on this?”

“Easy. Someone was paying them for every business they brought online and then a percentage of the subscribers. They were easily making six figures per month.”

“Are you fucking with me?” growled Jean.

“I wish I were, brother. These kind of sites are wanted by all kinds of creeps. Like I said before, they’ve got them in men’s and women’s dressing rooms and restrooms, but I hate to say it…”

“Don’t say it,” said Miller, staring at him. Code just looked at him.

“They’re in kid’s clothing stores too.”

“Fuck!” he yelled. Gaspar, Ian, Ghost, and Nine came running down the hall. They popped their head in to see the three men, then nodded.

“He told you,” said Gaspar.

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