The Chardon Chronicles: Season One -- The Harvest Festival by Kevin Kimmich Page B

he said and unfolded the card.
     
    “Really? That necessary?”
     
    “Can’t be too careful.” Ralph said.
     
    Chuck pictured Jerry cartwheeling in the
night sky. “Yeah you’re right.” He looked at the pictures and
breathed a sigh of relief. “This will be much easier than we
thought.”
     
    “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves--who knows
what they’ll want tomorrow or five minutes from now. Got this
covered?”
     
    “Yeah, I’m on it…” Ralph started walking
away. “Hey wait…” he turned and came back.
     
    “What?”
     
    “The books--or copies good enough? We could
ghost in make a copy and ghost out.”
     
    “Shit.” the judge said, put on the spot to
decide. “Better to take them. Who knows what they really want--the
information or maybe the physical book. Besides, you think anyone’s
going to miss those?”
     
    “Guess not. OK. It’ll get done, leave it up
to me.”

Chapter
Sixteen
    Keith sat at his office desk with a notepad
on his lap and a three ring binder propped against the computer
monitor. The binder had detailed background reports on the Cantoe
family. He’d been pretexting records for several days and had
amassed a pile of paper in the binder. He made notes and flipped
back and forth among the pages. He tapped his chin with a pencil
eraser.
     
    He saw Sarah Cantoe’s network was her Sister,
her kids and a couple of friends based numbers that she called
regularly in months leading up to the accident.
     
    He spent some time wading through bills and
bank statements. He started to feel some sympathy toward Sarah. Her
bank account regularly became overdrawn and she paid hundreds of
dollars in fees. She scrambled from job to job over the years. When
she won the lottery she opened a bank account at Hartsgrove Union
Bank--a name he didn’t recognize. There was only about $57 grand in
the account--probably what was left of the $100k after taxes. Each
of the Hartsgrove Union Bank statements showed the same amount and
no withdrawals or charges.
     
    “Geez they take a chunk…” he muttered, then
slapped his forehead. Keith picked up the phone and called Rich.
“So what happens when the Rice family sues Sarah Cantoe? They’ll
take everything… All $57,345 at Hartsgrove Union Bank. Why will she
keep quiet, then?”
     
    “Yeah, good point.” he conceded. Keith could
hear Rich’s office chair squeaking over the speakerphone. “On the
other hand, do you believe she would think that far ahead?” Rich
countered.
     
    “Probably not... She was living day to day.
But wouldn’t her employer think that far ahead?”
     
    “Yeah, I can’t argue with that logic… Did you
say ‘Hartsgrove Union’?”
     
    “Yep. Why? Know someone there?”
     
    Rich laughed. “I wish. Nope, Wills and
Divorces pay the bills, but I don’t have that kind of salad... I’ll
be right over.”
     
    A couple of minutes later Rich came in a
little out of breath from jogging across the street. “Hartsgrove
Union is a private client bank. I doubt you could get in the door
with $57 grand. And it’s not like they advertise.”
     
    “Yeah that’s very interesting. Do we have the
budget to bring in someone to help with surveillance? I’d love to
just have someone sit on the bank for a while. I am going to chase
down her two friends.” he tapped the binder.
     
    Rich grimaced. “Yeah, we can do that. Seems
like we’re onto something solid with the bank.”
     

Chapter
Seventeen
    Robbie propped his feet up on the library
table. He had a video chat going. The thin, tanned face on the
screen had a fuzzy biker beard and long blond-red hair. The cabin
of a spacious vehicle framed his head.
     
    “Hey Johnny, I’m settled in up here.” Robbie
said.
     
    “Back in Ohio? What’s that song--’ Hey, ho,
way to go Ohio ’”, he tapped the table.
     
    “Yeah, Chrissy Hynde out-of Akron, if I
remember rightly.”
     
    “Oh yeah, that’s it--I’m gonna listen to that
later.”
     
    “I pinged you