Four Weddings and a Fiasco: The Wedding Caper by Patricia McLinn Page B

up my records, I could see how they set up their system, what sort of information they have. It appears they keep the financials and counseling records separate, but I’d sure like to look more closely.”
    “Why are you grinning?”
    “Because I happened to notice what Harvey was typing in as his password. Do you have any idea how many people use 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8?”
    “You’re telling me their business manager is that stupid?”
    “Oh, no. Harvey uses 8-7-6-5-4-3-2-1. So tonight’s escape should be more fruitful than last night’s.”
    She chuckled, but also shook her head. “Afraid not. I used my free time for further conversation with our friend Albert. He’s feeling quite ill-used after being unjustly accused of misplacing or outright stealing counseling records that went astray last week. A little sympathy, and he told me more about the room cameras.”
    “Just told you?”
    “No. He rattled off the specs, clearly expecting it to be gibberish to me.”
    “But it wasn’t.”
    “Nope. No audio. No night vision. But they are movement- and light-activated.”
    “Damn. So any time we’d try to go out the hall door . . . .”
    “Exactly. And the tapes are reviewed each morning by staff, with a report to the counselors. So our poking around needs to be when other people are roaming around.”
    He took her arm to step up a curb as they reached the back of the Rose Chalet property, and grinned wickedly. “That does leave more time in bed.”
    “Motion-activated,” she repeated. “Reviewed by staff.”
    “Double damn.”
    She was trying to suppress a grin when they entered the kitchen, which was revved at full-throttle in anticipation of a wedding reception about to begin.
    “Ken’s in Rose’s office,” Julie threw over her shoulder, then appeared to forget their existence.
    They eased around the edges of the kitchen, down a back hall, and found Ken thoroughly enjoying a portion of the reception fare, apparently just delivered by Rose.
    “Little progress,” K.D. said, “especially on who might be the mole. But check on the couples who’ve gone from Marriage-Save to Gail Bledsoe, and see if any have kids.”
    Rose’s eyebrows rose. “I don’t believe any of the couples I’ve heard about have had children. I’ll double check that and let you know, Ken. In the meantime, I need to be sure everything’s in order for this reception.”
    After she left, they quickly filled in Ken on what they had learned about how the program worked, about the counseling and financial records being kept separate, and the restrictions on their movements at night.
    His eyebrows hiked at that, but after a quick look at each of them, he said nothing.
    Smart man.
    “I’ll check the kids angle,” he promised. “But why would it be significant?”
    “Because it could tell us something about whoever is selecting which couples Bledsoe goes after. It has to be someone who not only knows their financial circumstances, but also that they have no children. It might be fairly easy for some of the office and billing people to share financial information. But if what we’ve found out so far holds up, then they also need access to the counseling records to know who doesn’t have kids. Plus, which couples are more likely to split.”
    Eric nodded. “That has to narrow down who could know. If we could get in to see who’s been accessing both systems—”
    “Be careful,” Ken said. “This isn’t a law enforcement investigation, but we don’t want to make it impossible for us to follow the legal route with Marriage-Save if we absolutely have to.”
    “Okay, but we don’t have much opportunity for digging in to things. The schedule’s fairly tight and with us essentially locked in the room at night, we’re going to have a hard time knowing who at Marriage-Save is involved.”
    “It might already be enough to persuade the mayor to prevent the sale.”
    “But then Marriage-Save could move, and the mole could set up shop