These people use encryption, double passwords, and sometimes they change them hourly. Their servers are all over the world. I know for a fact that RC can and does use satellites to aid him. I told you, the man has no equal. Everyone is fearful of him, including yours truly. His reach is limitless.”
“No one is that good,” Dennis snorted. One look from Abner made him clench his teeth.
“I have an idea,” Snowden said out of the blue. “Do you think you could describe PIP? Espinosa is a good sketch artist. If he could get a good sketch, we could run it off some face-recognition software and see what we come up with. Maybe we could track her down that way.”
“Yeah, sure. It’s been a few years since I’ve seen her, but I don’t think she would have changed that much. But I have to ask, to what end? How do you think she could help us?”
“At this moment I don’t know,” Snowden said, “but checking it out is better than doing nothing. She might have paid more attention to RC than you did. As you well know, women have a different mind-set than men. You focused on RC’s hands. Maybe she focused on his smile, his eyes, or his nose. I think it’s worth a shot, since we have so little else to go on.”
Espinosa pulled a small sketch pad from his duffel bag and moved back into the main part of the suite, with Abner in tow. Snowden moved off to Charles’s computers and sat down to check out his software. Thirty minutes later, he was satisfied with what he had done, just as Espinosa waved a picture under his nose.
“It’s the best I could do, Mr. Snowden. It’s been a few years since I’ve seen her, but what you’re looking at is as good as it’s going to get,” Abner said as he stared at a plain-looking woman he thought of as PIP.
“Let’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?”
“Gilbert, Arizona. Not that far from here, as the crow flies.” Snowden looked over at his people and nodded. They left the room immediately.
“Where are they going?” Dennis asked.
“Probably out to heist a vehicle so they can drive to Arizona. That’s what I would do if I were them,” Jack said.
“Why not just rent a car or truck?” Dennis asked.
“Paper 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.”
“What if the owner calls the police?” Dennis persisted.
“What? 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.
“Okay, 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