Page 49 of Unspoken Lies
Oh for fuck’s sakes, he’s becoming a drama king now. Opening the tiny fridge Brea asked to keep up here, I grab a bottle of water for him and twist it open.
“Don’t be a brat and drink your water,” I mutter, handing it to him.
Elijah gives me the shittiest face and makes me snort.
“I haven’t fucked the brat out of you in a long time. It may be time to correct that,” I tell him, smirking.
Elijah shifts before adjusting his erection and sipping his water like a good boy.
“It doesn’t change the fact that we should look into her,” he complains.
“Yeah, I can do that,” Theo says with a slow nod. “The date of birth is different from Rachelle’s and so is where she graduated high school. These employment forms ask for so much information. I did that on purpose so that I could do a deep dive if necessary. Let’s go up to the office and see what I can find.”
Elijah stands, only wavering for a second before finding his balance. There’s a bump on his head where he hit it on the sidewalk, and since he threw up, I wouldn’t be surprised if he has a concussion. Fucking perfect.
Together, we walk to the back of the store and out into a hidden hallway. The way everything is set up, some of these were always here, they’re simply hidden because you can’t tell the door is back here. The hallway goes to our office, where we’rerarely at unless there’s an issue or we need to use the computer to research someone at our club.
Theo unlocks the door, and we pile in behind him so no one will see us. We told our managers that we had an emergency and were leaving early. Having someone know we’re still here will lead to someone needing us.
Theo settles in the office chair, and hits the button to fire up the computer. Thankfully, it’s not long before he’s hacking into the social security office to look up Rachel Thompson. Elijah isn’t wrong, the name is suspiciously close.
“Is anyone up for some B and E?” Elijah asks hopefully. “It’s been a really long time since we’ve pulled on masks and scared the shit out of people.”
“Settle down there,” Theo says. “She already whooped your ass once. Are you that interested in a second round?”
“I wasn’t expecting her to be carrying a weapon,” he sighs. “She appeared sweet and unassuming.”
“Small packages can be deadly,” I remind him. “Anything interesting, Theo?”
“She grew up in California according to this, went to school in a town four hours away from here, and has a pretty clean record,” Theo says. “She does have a parking ticket. That’s the most nefarious thing about her according to this.”
“She’s young, right? There’s no reason for her to have a rap sheet or anything,” I say with a smirk. “Brea probably hired Rachel because she seemed like a hard worker. The shop has been doing a lot of business lately. Are there any photos of her? What does her social media look like?”
“If it’s her, she’ll be smart and not have any of it,” Elijah says dejectedly. He’s swigging his water as if it’s alcohol, which makes me really glad that it isn’t. “I really doubt she’s posting her face anywhere.”
“Okay, Eeyore, let me just fucking look,” Theo says, shaking his head when Elijah gives him the lovely gift of his middle finger. “Very mature.”
“Ugh, I feel like shit,” Elijah groans.
“I think you may have a concussion,” I tell him with a wince. “Let’s get this figured out and we’ll head home. We’ll get pizza tomorrow.”
“Are we tabling the B and E too?” he asks dejectedly.
“Probably for the best if we do,” Theo says, lips twitching in amusement. “Okay, when I search social media by her name, I get a ton of hits due to how generic it is. We also don’t take photos of our employees at this time for badges or records. Technically, if you didn’t scare her off, she’ll probably return to work tomorrow. If she doesn’t show, we’ll hunt her down.”
“A hunt?” Elijah asks, perking up.
“Yeah, I think we may need one,” I agree with a cruel smile.
“Now, when I search by the phone number that she left on file, I find a tarot reading profile,” Theo says. “It’s The Blackhaired Mystic. There’s no photo, and they seem to do tarot readings for free.”
“Did you notice the sign in the window offering tarot card readings?” I ask. “I vaguely saw it when I walked in, and then forgot to ask you earlier.”
“I did. I was going to ask Brea about it, but it seems that she found someone in her newest hire,” Theo says. “She mentioned last week that the store’s best selling items are tarot card decks, and thought it may be nice to be able to offer readings.”
“Brea is a miracle worker,” I praise. “Not only is she the first person our clients see before entering the speakeasy, but she’s also pulled in clientele for the shop as well. How are her books?”
Theo is the money man and goes through them with a fine tooth comb.
