Isaak frowns.
“Thing is, with the cash out, even with the car, he’s pretty much vanished. It’s not exactly a bright-yellow sports car or something else obnoxious. It’s the same as a million others. This girl who does work for the PI noted the plates and the guy fitting Melor’s description. But that was over an hour ago.” “No one disappears without a trace,” Isaak says. “Even with cash. There are CCTV cameras, personal cameras in businesses, places that need an ID, even if you use cash.
“Shit, even if he gets a burner, most places have security footage. And if we know the time he used the ATM and where…that could be something.” Isaak snaps his fingers. “I know a guy.”
“You know a guy. Do you want flowers?”
“Next time.” Isaak sets his drink down, pulls out his phone, and scrolls through it. “I went to college with this guy. He’s an amazing hacker.”
“I don’t need a hacker.”
“You need a hacker. You’re good at the bang-kill-maim shit, the dark side of business, and the violent side of crime. He’s good at the dark side of cyber. He used to do this crap in his sleep at college.” Isaak grins down at his phone as he types in a message. “How’s the pretty girl?”
“Alina is?—”
“Not her, the other one.”
“Isla?”
“Yeah.”
I consider him. “Are you interested?”
He shrugs, sending a second text. “Making conversation.”
He looks at me. “My friend Chase will be able to get into the ATM’s records, get Melor’s card details, and track any other charges he’s made. And I’m betting with where he works—don’t ask—he’ll be able to run facial recognition through all kinds of CCTV feeds. Maybe we’ll get something now, maybe not, but even if not, then he’ll be able to see when he pops up again. He’ll use his card again in the future. Guarantee it.”
He glances down at his phone. “He said to call. You want me to?”
“Do it,” I say. “Bring him in.”
Isaak makes the call.
When he hangs up, he says, “It’ll take him a minute to get all the equipment he needs, but he can hook up to his system from here when he does it. And he’s got the bare facts.”
“Good,” I say. “Thanks.”
I fucking hate how reliant I am on everyone else all of a sudden. There are things I can do, some hacking, but even I know it’s base level. My grandfather doesn’t have anyone on staff who can do that. Even Demyan follows older-style ways. He uses tech when he can and when it’s needed, but nothing like what Isaak’s proposing.
I take a breath and a mental step back. Do I need someone who can hack? Not a hacker, maybe, but a tech-savvy person to take on a dedicated role?
“Hey,” Isaak says to me. “That offer you made me?”
“The job?”
“Yeah. Is it still on the table?”
I frown, nodding.
Isaak gives a small shrug. “I’ve been thinking a lot about it, and I want the job. I’m not happy where I am. The amount of effort isn’t an issue. It’s the time everything takes, like most of my hours. I’d like a better balance and a smarter job choice. It might just be the thing I’ve been missing.”
I take another sip of the bourbon. “After everything that’s happened to me recently, I’m going to lay out what you already know. This is going to be very different from what you do. I work in, as you say, the criminal area of business.”
“Big business is almost never on the up and up.”
“Your friendship’s more important to me than a job, Isaak. So why don’t we settle on a trial so we can both make sure it’s the right fit? And no hard feelings if either one of us decides it’s not working. I’ve already lost one good friend. I’m not prepared to lose another.”
Isaak smiles. “Speaking my language. I’ll take the leave I’ve amassed. And if I’m not into it, or you’re not, I’ll go back to my job or find something else.”
