“Shit!”
“What?”
“That’s the guy from Heron Air Service.”
“Are you sure?”
“Pretty damn sure.”
“But he’s not stopping at South’s.”
“Sean, it’s him.”
Sean started the car, eased out, and took up the tail.
He said, “We’re the only two rides out here. He’s bound to spot us.”
“Just keep it up a bit. There’s a major intersection coming up. There should be some traffic there we can hide in. I don’t want to lose this guy.”
He did as she asked.
“He’s making a left.”
“Got it.”
They reached the intersection. Luckily the light was green and they didn’t have to stop behind him where he might have gotten an eyeball on them despite their headlights boring into his line of vision. Both cars turned right and Sean backed off, sliding in behind a green Chevy to give himself some distance but keeping the other car in sight.
Michelle put down the optics and opened her laptop. She started fiercely clicking keys.
“What are you doing?” asked Sean, glancing over at her.
“Hacking into the DMV.”
“You can do that?” he said, looking surprised.
“Edgar showed me recently how to do it. I know, I know, it’s not exactly legal.”
“Actually, legally speaking, it’s not legal at all.”
“Look, I’m just trying to get some traction on this case. So don’t read me the riot act.”
“No. I think it’s very cool. Can you show me how to do it?”
She shot him a look. “Show you, Mr. Computer Illiterate?”
He scowled. “I know my way around Internet… stuff.”
“Sean, you just discovered emoticons last week.”
She continued clicking, and then a page opened up. “Trevor Jenkins, age forty-one. He lives in Vienna.”
“Can you do a Google-thingy and find out more about him?”
“A Google-thingy?”
“Just do it, Michelle. I’m following a suspect here. That’s apparently all my shrinking brain can handle.”
She clicked more keys. “Not finding much. Guy’s not a celebrity with his own website and Twitter account. Hold on, he does have an account with LinkedIn, of which I’m a proud member.”