Page 127 of The Advocate’s Ultimatum

JP spread a street map across Sabre’s conference table and pinned the corners with what was handy: two law books, a coffee mug, and a brass paperweight. He marked the laundromat first. Then he drew a circle around it, guessing at a walking distance for two young women carrying clothes. Close enough for routine, yet far enough to avoid being seen regularly by the same neighbors.

He stepped back and studied the map. Bay and Todd Maddox had both used the same laundromat. That meant overlapping territory. Routine was rarely accidental.

He drew Xs where other laundromats sat just outside the circle. Then circled two that were inside it. Bay hadn’t gone there, which likely meant one of two things: Those were less safe, or the laundromat he’d found was the closest reasonable option. Either helped.

He crossed out apartment complexes advertising in-unit laundry or visible laundry rooms he could verify online. Not impossible, but less likely.

Then he marked:

older duplexes

small four-plexes

converted homes

detached rear units

aging apartment clusters with no visible laundry

properties built before convenience became a selling point

The map began to show promise.

He picked up the phone and called Sabre’s realtor friend, Jennifer Ross.

She answered on the second ring. “If this is about the free legal advice Sabre gave me last week, I’m billing you first.”

“It’s for me,” JP said.

“Worse. What do you need?”

“Rental inventory.”

“That sentence alone makes me suspicious.”

“I need every apartment, duplex, granny flat, and legal-ish extra unit within about a mile of this address.” He gave her the laundromat location.

“Are you collecting property now?”

“Just trying to find people who don’t want to be found.”

“That sounds illegal enough to interest me.”

“I need places without laundry hookups if possible.”

“You know how many owners lie about amenities?”

“More than judges and less than men on dating apps?”

Jennifer laughed. “I’ll check MLS history, rental feeds, tax parcel notes, ADU permits, old listings, anything public. Give me an hour.”

“You’re a jewel.”

“I’m expensive.” She hung up.

JP returned to the map. He added another filter for places a man could rent quietly.

That meant: