Page 75 of Pied Sniper

This time, Clay frowned. “After. A couple of women who shoot here were talking about ways they can feel safer in their homes and asking their friends to come over for lessons. I said I’d give them a group discount if they wanted it. Some of the guys were talking about it too, saying how freakin’ brazen it was to do something like that on camera. You gotta be stupid, right?”

I nodded. “Anyone stand out? Somebody a little too interested in the case? Or seeming to have too much information? Maybe a little too flattering about the kidnappers’ skills?” I asked.

“No. Why? You think I’ve got the woman stashed here some place?” He grinned at Solomon, apparently finding that comment hilarious.

“Not one bit,” said Solomon, “But we have information the kidnappers might have been in this area prior to the abduction. We have no proof yet, and nothing to suggest they were, but I wonder if they might have practiced here.”

“I hope not but I can’t tell you definitively. Why don’t I keep an ear to the ground and let you know if I hear anything?” he said, rising and proffering his hand to shake first Solomon’s, then mine. I knew we were being dismissed.

“I think I offended him,” I said as we walked to the car. I kept a lookout for Maddox and Farid but couldn’t see them anywhere. That didn’t mean they couldn’t see us though.

“He’s not easy to offend. I think he’s more concerned that you could be right. He doesn’t want criminals in his place of business. He runs a tight ship and he’s keen to be known as female-friendly.”

“Then he’s not going to be pleased when the FBI drops by.”

“That won’t faze him. He’s dealt with far worse.”

“Sounds like he has a back story.”

“One that he’s glad to leave in the past,” said Solomon.

I checked my watch. “Let’s drop in on Lucas before we head over to the press call,” I said. “I’d like to see if any more information about Tiffany has surfaced.”

Chapter Fifteen

“I have news,” said Lucas when we stepped in, “and you’re not going to like it.”

“Our favorite donut place is closed?” I asked, stopping and holding my hands to my face in shock.

Lucas stilled. “It is?”

“It really is?” I squeaked. That was the problem with making jokes. Sometimes they backfired.

“You just said so!” he yelled. “Now I don’t want to give you Tiffany’s cloned laptop. The original is on its way to MPD now.”

I spotted a laptop on my desk. “Aha!” I said, diving for it before he could snatch it back.

“It hasn’t closed,” said Solomon, “and there won’t be anymore donuts for anyone until you tell us what you found out.”

“Tiffany is wanted in three states for fraud.” A smile slid across Lucas’s face. For a moment I didn’t know whether to gasp or hug him. That was big news!

“Are you sure?” I asked. “Because with everything we’ve learned about her, I kind of like it.”

Now he looked offended. “Am I sure? Sure, I’m sure. I figured someone who is that much of a grifter wouldn’t just stick close to home so I broadened my search and found several active warrants. There’s a fraudulent investment scheme in South Dakota, a hotel that she stiffed after a luxury shopping spree in Vegas, and a whole host of petty crimes in Pennsylvania. She also collects parking tickets. That’s the past few years. I draw a blank before then.”

“Any of the people she stiffed likely to kidnap her?” asked Solomon.

“It’s chickenfeed to the hotel, the investment scheme took money from thirty Average Joes with a cap of ten thousand apiece, and the petty crimes don’t reach more than a few thousand each.”

“Lexi, why are you scrunching your face like that?”

“It’s how I do the math,” I said as I mentally calculated what thirty times ten was. Then I got out my phone and checked it with the calculator app because I got lost in zeros. “Three hundred thousand sounds like enough for a bunch of people to get together to hire someone to kidnap her and demand a ransom that returns the money with a buttload of interest.”

“Has anyone called the tip line and mentioned her owing money?” asked Solomon.

“Not as far as I know but I’ll check,” said Lucas.

“If they’re not responsible, they might still be overjoyed at Tiffany’s misfortune,” I said, wondering how I would feel if someone stole my money, disappeared, and then ended up in a horrific national news story. I suppose I wouldn’t gloat publicly. But inside? Inside, I might do a teensy, tiny, guilty happy dance.

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