But unfortunately that’s what the job requires. You have to keep playing these things over in your mind, looking for something you might have missed. Sometimes it can make all the difference.

  When I stroll into the office, my folder in hand and ready to upload into the system, I’m surprised to see Zara already there, toiling away on her computer. Despite the fact she’s wearing a suit, her shoes are off and her feet are up on the chair, her knees pulled to her chest as she types. This is the exact same posture I used to find her in back in her old job and it’s how I can tell she’s deep into something.

  “Morning!” she calls out.

  I slip the folder with the pictures under a couple other folders on my desk. They’ll have to wait until later. “Morning. You’re here early.”

  “I had a thought last night, couldn’t sleep.”

  “About the case?”

  She invites me over to her desk. The rest of the room is still dark, none of the other stations are on, meaning Zara is the only one here. Part of me thinks I might be able to get away with searching the database even with her right across from me. As long as she stays engrossed in her work.

  “Okay, remember how you said we needed to find Aruz’s pressure point if we were going to ever get him to show us his records? I think I may have found it.”

  “You’re kidding,” I say, looking over her shoulder.

  “Remember Donaldson?” she asks. “Down in Finances?”

  I wrack my brain looking for the name. “I think so? He’s an FA, right?”

  “Yep. Originally my idea was to get him to help me look into Toscani’s business, see if he could find anything strange about their operations. But that would mean getting Gilbert involved and it would be this whole thing. Then I figured why not get his help with Aruz instead?”

  I check my watch. It’s barely seven a.m. “Donaldson works this early?”

  “He does when I call him at four a.m. and ask him to come in early.”

  I smile, shaking my head. “Did you pull that with every case officer you worked with?” On more than one occasion Zara would often call and get me up early in the morning to begin working on a case.

  “Only the ones I really like.” She winks at me. “Anyway, he just sent over a bunch of financials he got from a friend at the IRS. Look at Ryde 4 Lyfe’s tax returns. Look at his reported income.”

  “What the hell?” I say. “There’s no way he’s pulling in that much money from a ride-share alone. Especially not one that’s only been operating what…two years?”

  “Four,” she replies. “Generally companies don’t even see profit until the fifth year. Even with the rise in demand, based on what we do know about his company, he’s pulling in at least three times the amount he should be.”

  “So where’s it all coming from?” I ask.

  She shakes her head. “I don’t know. But I do think this looks like a case for an audit. The numbers in his most recent returns don’t add up.”

  “You think he’s evading taxes?”

  “Maybe. But I think it’s more likely he’s got an illegal operation running on the side and he’s trying to report it as legitimate income.”

  I shake my head. Math has never been my strong suit. It’s why I became a Special Agent over a Forensic Accountant. “Is it enough to make him talk?”

  “Unclear. He could just deny it all. But if we can get the IRS on his ass maybe he’ll start singing. No one ever wants to be audited, especially not if they’re hiding something.” She looks up at me with that gleam in her eye. The one that tells me she knows she’s on to something.

  “This is good,” I say. “But I don’t want to take another run at him until we’re absolutely sure we can nail him. I already bungled that once.”

  Zara relinquishes her feet and pulls her shoes back on. “You didn’t bungle it. You just underestimated how much of an ass Aruz would be about it.”

  “I suppose.”

  “Then I guess we’re still back at square one,” she says. “Until we can figure out where all that money is coming from, we really don’t have any leverage.”

  I hate to admit it, but she’s right. It might be enough to scare a normal person into helping us, but not Aruz. He won’t accept anything other than a court order. And I’m not sure we could get one until the IRS performed a deep dive on his financials.

  “You know what? Let’s pull his bank records. Personal and business. Let’s see what kind of deposits he’s making.”

  “Are you thinking there might be a pattern?”

  “Either that or a paper trail that leads back to the money,” I reply. My phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out, not recognizing the number. “Slate.”

  “Hello and good morning, ma’am. Is this Emily Slate I’m speaking with?”

  I screw up my face. “That’s what I just said. Who is this?”

  “Hi Ms. Slate, I’m with Dominion Loans. I was wondering if you’d be interested in a one-time offer of a six percent on your current credit—”

  I click the call off, searching through my history until I find the number and block it. “Damn telemarketers. It is seven in the freaking morning. Speaking of which I need some coffee.” I can’t believe they get started so early. And I hate they’ve gotten hold of this number. Usually I can keep them off this phone as I only give it out to potential witnesses or anyone who can help with a case.

  “Which one did you get?” Zara asks.

  “I don’t know. Some credit check crap,” I say, pouring myself a cup of coffee from the maker in our small kitchen off to the side of the bullpen. “Someone must have tossed my business card and a shark snapped it up.”

  Zara is giving me the strangest look. Like she wants to ask me a question but also already knows the answer. “Is that the first telemarketer call you’ve received on that phone?”

  “Yeah, wh—” It hits me a second later. It’s no coincidence that I receive this call not long after signing up for Ryde 4 Lyfe. No wonder he’s got so much extra income. “That little weasel! He’s selling his user’s data!”

  Zara runs back over to her computer, performing another search. “Current market prices for bundles of warm users could net him a hefty profit.”

  “I bet it could,” I say. “Except he clearly states in his TOS that he doesn’t sell his customer’s data to anyone else. I bet you anything that’s a big, fat lie.”

  Zara and I exchange looks. Now we have enough to nail him.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “I am sick of seeing this place,” I say as we get out of the car. We’re back in front of the Ryde 4 Lyfe “corporate offices” and my patience has already hit rock bottom. I should have learned my lesson by now, but I’m nothing if not stubborn. And I know we’re never going to get a warrant for the records, which means we have to get them using any other method at our disposal. And right now, that’s Aruz’s own ego.

  I walk up to the door and attempt to tug on the handle, but it doesn’t budge. I bang my fist on the plate glass, through the bars. It’s barely after nine a.m., just long enough for Aruz and his assistant to get settled. We even watched them pull into the parking lot and unlock the building. Dana arrived first, about ten minutes before Aruz, who showed up at five-till.

  I look inside and see Dana staring at us, her eyes wide. She grabs the phone and begins speaking into it, no doubt warning Aruz of our presence here. “Go around back,” I tell Zara. “Don’t let him slip away.”

  She nods and jogs around the building. I’ve locked eyes with Dana and I point at the door, reminding her of who she’s dealing with by showing her my badge. I swear, if this wasn’t such a tiny operation, I would have put in a request for a tactical team to join me. I’d have no qualms about breaking this man’s door down, even though I know he’d raise hell twice over.

  The longer I wait, the more frayed my nerves become. Dana is just sitting there, a terrified look on her face as she watches me. Aruz has obviously ordered her not to open the door for me. I just hope Zara made it around the back in time to nab him in case he decided to be stupid enough to run.

  “May I help you, young lady?”

  I turn, fury on my face to see a man in a brown tweed suit approach me. He’s got white hair and a white mustache along with a jovial look on his face. As soon as I see him, all I can think of is Colonel Sanders.

  “Sir, this is official FBI business, I need to ask you to keep your distance,” I say, showing him my badge.

  “My, that’s shiny,” he says with something of a southern accent. I can’t tell if this guy is playacting or if Mr. Sanders here is the real deal. “You look a hair too young to be in the FBI, if you don’t mind me sayin’.”

  “I do,” I reply. “Now step back.” Aruz’s refusal to open his door is officially moving him into the obstruction category, which means I’m completely within the bounds of the law to break it down if I have to. I’d rather not, but given the circumstances, and the fact Hannah has been missing for three full days now, I’m out of patience.

  I unholster my weapon.

  “Ma’am, I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” the Colonel says.

  “Sir, I said for you to stay back,” I reply. I do not have time for this.

  “You don’t seem to understand. I’m Mr. Aruz’s lawyer. He’s advised me that the FBI has been harassing him. And given you’re about to blow his door off its hinges, I’m inclined to agree.”

  I glare at the man a moment before holstering my weapon again.

  He smiles. “Cornelius Cox the Third,” he says, holding out one of his hands. “But you can call me Cornelius. Ever’body else does. My offices are right down thataway.” He points in the direction he came from, about four stalls down.

  “Mr. Cox,” I say, neglecting to take his hand. “Your client is willfully obstructing a kidnapping case in which the victim may have been picked up by one of his drivers. Now I have tried to be reasonable. But the fact of the matter is I am out of time and have given Mr. Aruz all the leeway I can afford. I need you to order your client to open this door so that we may begin looking at his files.”

  Cox smiles, though it’s a difficult one. “I’m afraid that won’t be possible m’dear. I’ve been instructed that all communication meant for Mr. Aruz to come through me first and I can act as somethin’ of a…buffer in this little matter. And I have to advise my client not to speak to you at this time. Unless you’re willin’ to charge him o’course.”

  I nod a couple of times, working my jaw. “Okay. Fine. Then I’m here to charge him. Open up.”

  Cox lets out a guffaw. “Young lady, you do know how the justice system works don’t you? You can’t just charge someone without evidence!”

  “Call me young lady one more time and you’re gonna find that mustache in the gutter,” I growl. “I have all the evidence I need that shows Aruz is guilty of defrauding his customers, as well as illegally reporting his income. Something the IRS will be very interested in, don’t you think?”

  The man across from me clears his throat. “Perhaps we should go in, after all.” He motions to Dana who comes running up and unlocks the door. I let Cox in first as I call Zara.

  “Anything?” I ask.

  “Nothing back here. He’s staying put.”

  “Come back around. There’s been a development.” I hang up and put my phone away as I enter Ryde 4 Lyfe for the third time in two days. As soon as I’m in Aruz appears from around the open doorway in the back.

  “What are you doing? What the hell did I hire you for?” He yells at Cox before turning on Dana. “And you, why did you let her in here again?” He gives neither of them a chance to answer before addressing me. “I’m not talking to you. Get out of here, I’ve already made myself clear.”

  I wait, it seems I have some patience reserves deep within after all. Zara appears at the door and follows us in.

  “Cox! Are you just going to let them come in here? What kind of lawyer are you?”

  “Mr. Aruz,” Cox says, clearly uncomfortable. “These la—Agents are here to arrest you.”

  Aruz backs up, shaking his head. “On fake charges. Yeah, they already tried that once before.”

  I glare at him. “Robert Aruz,” I say. “I’m placing you under arrest for fraud and tax evasion. As well as obstruction in the investigation of a crime.”

  He’s still shaking his head, though I can see a glimmer of panic in his eyes. “No, what is this? Cox, stop them. They have no right.”

  “I can’t tell the FBI how to do their jobs, Mr. Aruz,” Cox says. I’m not sure if Cox knows exactly what he signed up for when he agreed to be Aruz’s attorney, but I get the sense that he’s beginning to regret it. He probably thought Aruz was just another young tech startup entrepreneur, unaware that he’d have to defend him against charges like this.

  Cox turns to me anyway. “Agent, may I ask what evidence you have to support these charges?”

  “For one thing, his balance sheets don’t line up,” I say. “Not with someone running a business like this.”

  “And he’s selling his customer’s data, despite the promises made in his terms of service,” Zara adds.

  “That’s…you can’t do anything. It’s a fine or something. You can’t arrest me for that.” Cox tries to shush him, but Aruz pays the older man no attention.

  “Then you admit it,” I say, stepping closer to him. He takes a similar step back. “We’ve already flagged your financials for the IRS. And what we’re seeing in your bank accounts doesn’t match up with your reported income.”

  He keeps shaking his head, glancing behind him. “I’ve done nothing wrong here.”

  I pull out a zip tie from my jacket pocket. “We’ll see about that. Federal tax evasion comes with serious time, Mr. Aruz. And just think, we wouldn’t have found any of this had you just allowed us access to your records.” I shake my head. “I guess it’s a good thing you’re as stubborn as you are. At least, it’s good for us, not for you.”

  “Wait, no, you can’t do this,” he says as I close in on him. He’s jumpy enough that I think he might try to run or fight me. Neither of which would be smart.

  “Don’t move, Mr. Aruz.” I motion for Zara to walk around me to get behind him. I see a flash in his eyes and I’m sure he’s about to bolt, but either he takes too long to make the decision, or he relents, as Zara is able to block off his other exit. I reach him and pull his hands behind his back, zipping them together.

  “Cox! Can’t you do anything?”

  “Sorry, son,” he says. “Gotta let the process work itself out. Just don’t say anythin’ until after they process you, hear? We’ll get this worked out once the paperwork goes through.”

  “Okay, look, how about this?” Aruz says, panic rising in his voice. “I’ll let you go through all the records you want. Okay? Just the driver ones. You can have the whole list. It’s all right there, in my station.” He nods toward the back.

  “You don’t seem to understand,” I say, taking more pleasure in this than I should. “We’re already going to look at the records. Now that you’re in custody, you don’t have any more hands to play.”

  “No, no,” he says, some of that confidence returning. “Everything is encrypted. You’ll need my personal login to access it.”

  I turn to Zara, motioning for her to get started. “We’ll see about that.”

  “Give me a few minutes,” she says, then disappears behind the back wall. I escort Aruz over to one of the few empty seats in the room and sit him down.

  “She’ll never get in,” he says. “I use fractal encryption. Which means that unless she’s a mind reader, she won’t be able to keep up with the changing login algorithm.”

  I narrow my eyes, trying not to show any trepidation on my face. Zara is good—really good. But there’s something I don’t like about his attitude. Something that tells me he might not be bluffing about this.

  I leave Aruz while Cox comes over to confer with him. Instead, I walk over to Dana’s desk where she’s returned, somewhat shell-shocked by the morning’s events. “Does this mean I’m out of a job?” she asks.

  “I don’t know. Doesn’t your company have a board of directors, or at least someone who can take over in the event of an emergency?”

  She shakes her head. “Rob is big on automation. Most everything runs by itself with little need for support. I’m the only customer support representative the company has.”

  “Then he’s done you a disservice,” I say, drumming my fingers on her desk, waiting for Zara. I realize we’ve probably just made Dana’s life more difficult, but that can’t be helped. Aruz more or less just admitted to fraud. Which means we don’t have a choice but to take him in now.

  Growing impatient, I head back to find Zara sitting at Aruz’s desk, surrounded by screens. It’s cooler back here, industrial fans running to keep all the computer equipment from overheating. I feel like I’ve stepped into the matrix with the number of servers he has stacked on top of one another. “Anything?”

  She glances back up at me. “It’s not looking good. He wasn’t kidding about this rotating algorithm. I think once I get into the system I shouldn’t have any problems navigating it. But getting past this…whatever it is…is something I haven’t run into before.”

  I grit my teeth. My hope had been that even if Aruz hadn’t cooperated we’d be able to gain access to his systems anyway. I return to the main office.

  “Can’t get in, huh?” Aruz asks, a smile on his face. Cox tries to whisper in his ear, but it’s lost to him.

  “Give us access to the system,” I say.

  He stands. “Take these restraints off. And I want all charges dropped.”

  I laugh. “No chance. I don’t think you understand just how much trouble you’re in.”

  He shrugs. “Then I guess you don’t get access.”

  I twist my face, doing my best not to walk over there and smack that little smile off his face. “Mr. Cox. Will you please tell your client what he can get for obstruction?”