“Uh, how exactly would that help?” Angela asked.
“It’ll keep your mind off things,” Leigh replied. “And it’ll be fun. I promise.”
Angela crossed her arms, drummed her fingers.
“I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?” she asked.
Angela sat in Leigh’s pickup truck across the street from a brownstone duplex out in the suburbs. The lights in the house were dark and the driveway was empty. As far as Angela could tell, nobody was home.
“Over the past few years,” Leigh said, “thirteen charities across the country have gone bankrupt, their money siphoned off by some unknown party. The only thing connecting them is this man.”
She held out her phone. A well-dressed man with slightly-greying blond hair smiled at the camera.
“Every few months, he shows up with a new name, a new birth certificate,” Leigh said. “He gets a job at a charity, secretly drains their bank accounts, and moves on. Like a virus.”
“And now he’s here,” Angela said.
“And now he’s here,” Leigh replied. “And he’s up to his old tricks already, but this time, we’re going to catch him.”
“How?” Angela asked.
“He’s got a computer inside,” Leigh said. “He keeps it off the grid so I can’t access it remotely. But if I can get up close, I’ll have all the evidence I need to put this guy away.”
“So you’re going to… break into his house?” Angela asked. “That’s dangerous. And illegal.”
“Normally I’d leave the hands-on stuff to one of my associates,” Leigh said, “but the time window here is too narrow. So I have to go in, myself.”
“I don’t like this,” Angela said, “but I don’t want to see you getting hurt. What do you need me to do?”
“Just watch,” Leigh said. “If you see anybody coming toward the house, shoot me a text and I’ll haul ass out of there.”
“I guess I could handle that,” Angela said.
“I knew I could count on you,” Leigh replied.