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“Tell them to search Brey’s house,” North said as he accelerated. The Focus’s engine whined. “Jesus Christ, this car. I’m not exaggerating: I might as well be driving a fucking cracker box.”
“Hi, Auggie,” Shaw said as he answered on speakerphone. “Sorry—”
“Did you guys seriously race out of here and not tell us where you were going?”
“Well, the thing is—”
“Because that’s what it looked like.”
“Pint size,” North said, “you and Poo-paw get your asses over to Brey’s house and see what you can find. The place should be empty, but don’t take any risks.”
“What the hell happened—” Auggie began.
“What happened is we’re working,” North said. “Do what I told you.”
“I got us that interview. Me. And if you’d let me get a word in—no, Theo, I don’t need you to handle this for me. If you’d listened to me, I’d have told you when I saw Brey—”
Shaw’s phone began to buzz with another call, and North said, “Gotta run, sweet cheeks. Go toss Brey’s house.”
He tapped the screen to switch calls.
“Hello?” The voice was a woman’s, elderly, and a hint of the delivery suggested she was Black. “Is this the Treasury?”
Shaw said, “Yes, hello, Asset Recovery. How may I help you?”
“Well, yes. Hello. My name is Carly Welch, and I received a message asking me to call this number. It’s about money.”
“All right, Mrs. Welch,” Shaw said. “Let me see here. I don’t have anything listed for a Carly Welch. I’m sorry, did they—”
“No, no, no, it was for my grandson. Philip.”
Another call began to come in—from Auggie again. Shaw dismissed it. “Ok, well, I can only release that information to Mr. Welch.”
“But he’s not here, see. That’s the problem.”
“That’s not what I have in my records,” Shaw said. He read out Carly Welch’s number. “That’s the contact information I have for Mr. Welch.”
“He was in jail, and now he’s not. The police were here today asking me about it. So, what I need to know is if this is time sensitive, see? If it’s time sensitive, maybe I can handle it. That’s why I’m calling you.”
The phone buzzed—Auggie again. Shaw dismissed this call too.
“Well, that’s not our usual procedure,” he said. “Do you have a phone number? A way for me to contact Mr. Welch?”
“Honey, he’s run away. Nobody can find him. You ought to call the jail and tell them that you’re with the government. They’ll tell you all about it.”
“All right, Mrs. Welch. Thank you so much for your help. Do you want me to update Mr. Welch’s contact information in our system.”
“No, no,” she said. “But if it’s time sensitive, I need to know what I can do. If it’s his money, he ought to get it, don’t you think?”
Shaw managed to get off the call after a few more reassurances, then he flopped back against the seat.
“Either she’s a cunning mastermind,” North said, “or she actually might not know where her grandson is.”
“He definitely didn’t show up at her house. There’s no way she would have called back if she was helping him hide.”
“Cross her off the list,” North said. “What about the other two?”
Shaw tried his prerecorded message on the cousin, Melvin. This time, a man interrupted him, his voice harsh and loud.
