The Werewolf Meets His Match

Page 71

Ivy hugged her. “Thank you for watching him. I wouldn’t have been able to stay with Hank at the hospital if not for you. I really appreciate that.”

This time her smile was genuine. “Anytime you need me, just call.” She picked up her purse from the coffee table. “Oh, I almost forgot. Charlie, where’s that jump drive you found?”

Charlie put his thinking face on. “I think I left it on the kitchen table.”

Birdie nodded. “I’ll get it.” She headed into the kitchen, coming back moments later with the small black rectangle in her hand. She held it toward Ivy. “I made Charlie take a bath this morning, and he found this in his room when he was getting dressed. I assume it belongs to one of you?”

Ivy took it. “I don’t recognize it. Hank?” She tossed it to him.

He looked it over. “Me either.” He glanced at Charlie. “This was in your room?”

He nodded. “On the floor.”

“Where did it come from?”

Charlie shrugged. “I dunno.”

“Did you plug it in?” Ivy asked Birdie. “See what’s on it?”

“No.” Birdie clutched her purse. “I thought it might be personal information.”

“Okay, we’ll figure it out later. Right now I think we need to order some pizza and enjoy being home.”

Hank smiled at his aunt. “What do you like on your pie?”

Her brows rose. “You want me to stay?”

“Unless you’re tired of being here.”

“No, I’d love to stay. Thank you.” She put her purse down, all smiles. “I can order the pizza. You two visit with your son. Extra cheese okay?”

“Yes. Meat lovers. Get two,” Hank called after her. He grinned at Ivy. “Hospital food sucks, and I’m starving.”

“Speaking of things to eat…” Ivy joined them on the couch, sitting on Charlie’s other side so he was between her and Hank. She ruffled his hair. “How much candy did Aunt Birdie give you?”

Charlie shrugged. “I’m not supposed to say.”

Hank smiled. “That sounds like her. Maybe after dinner you can teach me how to play Mario Kart.”

“How about tomorrow?” Ivy said. “Tonight you just need to rest.”

Hank made a face at Charlie. “Your mother is no fun.”

He let out a big exhale. “I know.”

Sated with pizza, beer and the two pain pills that Ivy had insisted he take, Hank was firmly ensconced on the couch watching Charlie play video games while Ivy and Birdie cleaned up in the kitchen.

He dug the flash drive out of his pocket and turned it over in his fingers. It looked like any other flash drive, but not one he recognized. Curiosity ate at him.

Ivy and his aunt came in, chatting about dessert. Birdie said there was leftover wedding cake, and she happened to have bought ice cream.

Hank held the flash drive up. “Birdie, why don’t you use my laptop and open this thing up, see what’s on it? Ivy, my laptop’s on the counter in the kitchen.”

Birdie put a hand to her throat. “You want me to open it?”

“Why not?” He shrugged. “After how you dug into Prescott’s bank records, you’re clearly the most qualified.”

“I’ll grab the laptop,” Ivy said.

Birdie took the drive from him as Ivy left. “I guess I can try. What if there’s a virus on here?”

“I might be on pain meds, but even I don’t think someone broke into the house and left a flash drive on the floor in Charlie’s room in the hopes of giving me a computer virus.”

She sat in the recliner, holding the flash drive in her hand like it was a fragile thing. “I suppose you’re right.”

Ivy returned with the laptop, set it on the coffee table then fired it up. “Hank, you’ll have to log on. I don’t know your password.”

“Alphawolf.” He shrugged, a lazy smile curving his mouth. “You know, ’cuz I am one.”

Ivy grinned. “Maybe next time you shouldn’t take your pain meds with beer. For a shifter, you have a low tolerance.”

She typed the password in, then took the machine to Birdie and set it on her lap. “Here you go. See what you can find.”

Birdie put her glasses on, then plugged the drive in. The laptop whirred to life and beeped softly. She hit a few keys, her gaze studying the screen. Light reflected off her glasses as whatever was on the drive popped up.

“What is it?” Ivy asked.

“Files. Not sure what they contain yet.” Birdie tapped a few more keys. “This is interesting. Although I’m not entirely sure what it means.”

Hank waved a hand sleepily. “Probably nothing.”

Birdie looked over the rims of her glasses at Ivy. “Could KI stand for Kincaid Industries?”

She shrugged. “I guess so.”

Birdie nodded like she was thinking. “Then KI One and KI Two would make sense.” Birdie focused on the screen again, her eyes narrowing behind her glasses. “That would make this years of information.”

Hank pushed upright, his interest temporarily sanding off the edges of his drug-induced weariness. “What did you find?”

Birdie lifted her head. “I’m not a forensic accountant, but I’d say this file contains two sets of books for Clemens Kincaid’s business dealings. The real one that contains his actual numbers and the fake one he uses for official business. And if that’s the case, he could be going away for a long, long time.”

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