Fast and Loose by Fern Michaels Page B

thought of as PIP.
    â€œLet’s see what we come up with. It might take a few hours, or it might take a few minutes, or somewhere in the middle,” Snowden said, his eyes glued to the screen.
    Twenty-three minutes later, Snowden’s fist shot high in the air. “Got it! Abner, is this your friend PIP?”
    Abner peered over the top of his reading glasses. “Yep, that’s her. A younger her, but it is PIP. Younger, I’d say, by ten years. Where does she live?”
    â€œGilbert, Arizona. Not that far from here, as the crow flies.” Snowden looked over at his people and nodded. They left the room immediately.
    â€œWhere are they going?” Dennis asked.
    â€œProbably out to heist a vehicle so they can drive to Arizona. That’s what I would do if I were them,” Jack said.
    â€œWhy not just rent a car or truck?” Dennis asked.
    â€œPaper trail, kid,” Ted said. “Don’t worry, Mr. Dudley Do-Right. They’ll leave money on the seat when they return it. They’re just borrowing it for now.”
    â€œWhat if the owner calls the police?” Dennis persisted.
    â€œWhat? You think this is those guys’ first rodeo? They know what to do and how to do it. They’ll go into the garage, look for a car with dust on it, one that looks like it hasn’t been driven for a while, and hot-wire it. When they return it, no one will ever know. Does that make you happy, kid?”
    Dennis didn’t know if it did or not, so he clamped his lips together and crossed his arms over his chest, disapproval written all over his features.
    Harry moved next to him. “Get over it, Dennis. Like now. Do not ever question what we do again. Are we clear on that?”
    Dennis swallowed hard. “It’s crystal, Harry. Really, really crystal. I’m over it. I am so over it, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” He eyeballed Harry and was rewarded with a smile that sent better men than him running for cover. “See, see, I’m loose as a goose. You want fast and loose, I’ll give you fast and loose.” Harry walked away, to Dennis’s relief. His knees started to buckle, but Ted caught him just in time.
    â€œOkay, people, here is PIP’s profile, thanks to Google. She’s thirty-nine years old. This proves she does have a personal life aside from her . . . ah . . . other life. Her name is Mary Alice Farmer. She sells organic plant seeds online. And she makes a living at it. Has a small specialty shop in Gilbert. She owns her own house, no mortgage. She drives a vintage Ford Bronco. According to her credit-card history, she travels five or six times a year by plane. Odd places, so I assume those trips are to attend hacker conventions. She doesn’t charge a lot on her credit cards—gas, drugstore purchases, Home Depot stuff. Single, never married. No pets. Dates maybe once a year. However, she has a very robust brokerage account at Wells Fargo. High, high seven figures. She must sell a lot of organic seeds to account for her bottom line. Even a fool could look at this and realize she has an outside income. Hard to tell from this report. Mode of dress is sneakers, jeans, T-shirts. No fashion plate. Abner, does this sound like the PIP you know?”
    Abner shrugged. “I don’t know anything about her personal life. I’m hearing this all for the first time, just the way you are.”
    â€œOkay, okay. I get all that, but based on the picture here on the screen and what I’ve just told you, do you think this is PIP?”
    â€œYeah, yeah, I do.”
    â€œOkay, that’s good enough for me. Hold down the fort, people. When you see me next, I will have Ms. Mary Alice Farmer in tow. We won’t be coming back here, however. We’ll take her to The Venetian. Someone call and reserve a room in the name of Zack Hammer. Here’s a credit card to charge the room to. Not to worry about returning it. I