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“We couldn’t find anything, but we wrote a program that could give us possible answers,” smiled Spencer. The men just smiled at the kids. They were so proud of themselves, and they obviously found something helpful.
“The best answer the program came up with is ‘police for police justice.’ We think it’s a little dig that only they know about. Charlie Gates has millions of dollars in investments. Multi-millions. He also has roughly two hundred and nine employees. All former police officers in Atlanta. They’re paid every month, but it’s not the same amount.”
“Not the same amount? Why?” asked Ian.
“We think, me and Spencer, oh, and we asked Mr. Jean to be sure we were right. But we think they get a percentage of what they bring in that month. That’s why it’s always different. But every man gets the same amount.”
“Smart,” nodded Ghost. “He’s not pitting them against each other like a competition. Instead, they’re rooting for one another to succeed. If they’re all successful, everyone gets the bigger check.”
“We did something else,” smirked Spencer.
“Is it something dangerous?” asked Fitz, staring at his sons.
“You said you wouldn’t get mad,” frowned Nigel. Fitz just grinned at him, shaking his head.
“I won’t get mad. I just want to know if it was dangerous.”
“Not really. I mean, they won’t know that we did it. We did a search for any wills that listed any of the two hundred men as beneficiaries.”
“And?” asked Ian. “How many?”
“One hundred and thirty-two.”
“What’s the likelihood of him winning the congressional seat?” asked Miller.
“He’s leading in the polls by nearly twenty percent,” said Spencer. “There’s no doubt he will win.”
“Well, then,” said Ghost, looking at his friends, “let’s create some doubt.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Setting up for a new day of predictions, Julia, Noah, U-Jin, Ruby, and Irene were pleased that the weather was a bit milder today. Just the hint of cooler temperatures and partly cloudy skies was a welcome distraction. School was back in session, so many of the tourists were gone, but there were still a few stragglers.
“What can we do for you, baby?” asked Irene of the young man seated in front of her. He handed her a twenty-dollar bill and just smiled.
“That’s all I have, but I just want to know if I’ll ever get a break. I’ve been workin’ on the riverboats for three years now, hopin’ to save enough money for my own place. I’m thirty-seven years old, been workin’ two to three jobs for as long as I can remember. I’m gettin’ tired,” he said, sounding defeated.
Irene reached across and handed the young man his twenty back. She squeezed his fingers around the bill and smiled at him.
“You’re gonna do just fine, Paul.”
“How’d you know my name?” gasped the man. He looked at the smiling faces of the women, then shook his head. “Right. You’re psychic.”
“Trust me, baby. You’re gonna do just fine. I tell you what, go on over to the convenience store there and grab me a bottle of water. I’m awful parched.”
“But…”
“Go on now and buy a little something for yourself,” said Irene. He nodded and stood, doing exactly as he was told. She watched him and smiled, giving him a nod.
“Mama, you can’t promise people that everything will be okay when it might not be,” said Gaspar into comms, seated across the Square.
“I can and I will.” They heard a loud ‘whoopee!’ and the young man ran out, handing Irene her water.
“You did it! I don’t know how you did it, but you did it! I won! I won a million bucks on a scratch off! I won!”
“See, you’re gonna be okay, baby. You go get your own place and enjoy.” He hugged Irene tightly, kissed her cheek, and then ran off, turning back to her, he yelled.
“I’ll be back!” Irene and Ruby just chuckled, shaking their heads.
