“So what's the cursing about?” I ask, carefully pulling my hair free from Henry's grip as Darcy comes in. He's got strong little hands, and even my two inches of hair stings as he yanks. “You need to get him into arm wrestling ASAP.”
“Don't encourage him,” Darcy says with a chuckle. “But I'm having problems with my contacts. Seems it's been too long since I checked in with them down there, some have moved out, some have dropped out of the game, some are just... not available. And my ex-boyfriend's getting married. Feel bad for whoever that poor girl is.”
“So nothing?” I ask, and Darcy quickly shakes her head. “Well, what then?”
“Something, but it's going to be slow. I don't think you've got the leeway to sit around waiting,” Darcy says, “not with what Peter's surely getting ready to send after you.”
I nod, then shrug, helpless. “Can't do much else. If I have to, I'll go running, take down Peter, then worry about my parents later.”
“Or you could ask for help from someone else,” Jeff says, coming out of the master bedroom. “Darcy, I've never helped you before like this, but you've never asked for it.”
“Wanted to keep you out of trouble,” Darcy replies. “Plausible deniability and all that stuff.”
Jeff comes over and wraps his arms around Darcy's waist from behind, chuckling. “I lost all sense of plausible deniability when I married you, Darce. Besides, this doesn't sound all that risky. What're you looking for?”
“My parents,” I say, and Jeff gives me a questioning look. “Yeah, I thought so too until yesterday. Seems they ghosted on us, and they're in Miami. Darcy's been trying to use her contacts to help me find them.”
“Well, I've got some contacts, too,” Jeff says, going over to the counter and opening his cell phone. “Ones who can legally do what you guys are trying to do.”
Jeff taps at his phone, going over to the couch and sitting down. Darcy and I exchange looks, and she shrugs. She doesn't know what he's doing either. Jeff ignores us for a moment and talks to someone on the other end of the line.
Darcy snaps her fingers in recognition and leans over, whispering. “Gabriel Hawkins, he's an Academy friend of Jeff's, and he's one of the sysadmins for the NOPD's connection with the national crime database.”
I nod and sit down on the carpet while Jeff talks. “Okay, yeah, I'll owe you some barbecue, that's all good. Thanks, man. Sure... name...”
“Michael Ball.”
“Michael Ball, not sure on the spelling of Michael. Age? Between forty-five and fifty claimed.”
“Jeff knows a lot,” I comment, looking at Darcy who nods.
“He's been interested in the case ever since he learned of our friendship. He knows more about the case than most.”
“Just a second, Gabe,” Jeff says, then covers his phone. “Any more information?”
“White male, five-foot-eight, brown/brown, and... he might be a bartender,” I say, recalling everything from memory.
Jeff gives me a thumbs up and uncovers his phone, repeating what I told him. “Yeah, that's what I was thinking, cross-referencing the name with the ABC list of bartender licenses. The ID's false, but probably good enough to get by the ABC. Yeah, you can do that? Cool. No, I'll wait.”
Jeff sets his phone down and gives me a smile. “He's running the search now.”
We wait for a few moments, and Jeff's phone makes some noise, and Jeff picks it up. “Yeah, I'm here, Gabe. Really? Three hits in the Dade and Broward counties? Yeah, send me their info, I'll pass it along. Honest man, I'm not making a dime off this, this is a favor to a friend. Thanks, Gabe, I owe you.”
Jeff hangs up, then waits a minute until his phone buzzes. “Here you go,” he says, reading the message. “Three matching that description in the area. Two of them are listed as married. How do you want it?”
“I'll write it down myself. You don't need any more of an electronic trail on this than you've already got. Jeff, you're sticking your neck out on this one.”
He nods, and passes his phone over to me. Darcy brings me a piece of paper and a pen, and I start copying the three addresses down. “Any phone numbers?”
“He could get them, but I figure you've got those skills. As to your comment, well, I've broken the rules before with Darcy, just not like this. It's about justice, and sometimes the law and justice don't always see eye to eye,” Jeff says, sitting back. “Now, I've got one more question for you.”
“Sure, what's that?” I ask, tucking the folded paper in my pocket and handing the phone back to Jeff.
“You staying for dinner or not? No offense, but you're skinny as a rail, and I'm pretty sure that we can scrape up something that'll put a little meat on your bones.”