Page 111 of Brazen Mistakes

I stare at Walker, not knowing how to respond. “He has how many houses?”

“Four. Ours was the first, of course, and our rent is a way to clean our funds. The second one we got early last year, fixed it up first semester, then rented it out for second semester.”

“But how does that launder money?”

“We advertise the old ‘this house is a dump’ rate, pick our favorite tenants, and then report a higher rent amount, co-mingling their legit funds with our dirty money. Trips says we’re going to have to scale up for this to work once we’re out of school and taking regular work, but it’s good for now.”

I slump back into the seat. “Money laundering.”

“You knew that was part of what we do.”

“I did, but it was always some nebulous idea, not an actual plan for cleaning your funds. What about the scholarship money? I’m not the only one getting that, so how does all that get clean?”

“We set up charities and then our shell companies donated the money to them. We have a few other kids we don’t even know who have applied and gotten money too, but it’s worth it to lose some funds to get our tuition covered. And each of us has different charities, so it looks less suspicious. You’ll be our fifth nonprofit, princess.”

“Trips uses the charity system?”

“No. He uses his trust fund for school. But Jansen’s sister got her last year covered, and then RJ’s sister is getting a full ride for all four years, along with those random kids.”

He turns into a tiny parking lot outside of a shack-like shop. “We’re here. They only have fish tacos, so you can stay warm here and I’ll run in and get them.”

My mind barely follows this mundane turn in conversation. “Okay.”

Walker steps from the car, rushing to the shop with fogged-up windows and peeling paint while I stare after him, trying to catalogue all the new information I just got. I askedfor code words and ended up with money laundering and the knowledge that Trips is my landlord.

No wonder the room was such a steal.

Another point where I could turn, where I should probably go to the cops, but instead of righteous horror, I’m impressed.

Okay, that’s a bit of a lie. There’s some horror too. But I’m more impressed, soding ding, we have a winner.

They really thought of everything over the last few years. They’re so young to have built all this.

It might only be a foundation, but it’s a sturdy one.

Take enough accounting and law classes, which I have, and it’s easy to see how smart the co-mingled funds are, how setting up honest scholarship programs as a cost of doing business has let them pay for school. And as every high school counselor says, tons of scholarships don’t even get applications every year, so it’s not like they’re even losing that much.

Knowing that Trips is targeting Dinkytown, which has notoriously shitty student housing, and is fixing it up but charging lower rates? It’s brilliant. He’s not displacing any potential homeowners, he’s making the housing safer and cleaner, and then he’s keeping rent low.

They must get hundreds of applicants, and with RJ’s skills, they know exactly who they’re renting to. They get the pick of the litter, and their tenants get a good deal on a nice place.

No wonder Trips was worried I’d burned down the kitchen while he wasn’t at home—he’s the one who’d have to fix it.

The driver’s door cracks open, and Walker hands me a bag of salty and spicy-smelling food. Just from the scent, I can tell these are probably amazing. I just workedout, so I’m sure I need the nutrition. And yesterday I ran and failed at learning self-defense. When was the last time I ate until I was full?

Nope. Not going there.

His focus shifts between me and the road. “You look like you’re thinking big thoughts.”

“I’m impressed with what you guys have set up.”

“Glad you’ve joined this side of the law?”

“With criminals like you guys, I wouldn’t have stood a chance,” I say, thinking about my unanswered offer from the FBI.

Walker takes an unexpected turn. “Picnic? We’ll only be in the way at the house until later. I thought I’d take you to the sculpture garden.”

“Really? I haven’t been over there since I was in grade school. In the mood for viewing the cherry and the spoon?”

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