The next morning Tommy was waiting at the news researcher’s desk at eight, sipping on a latte with another one in her hand.
Carla Jackson pushed her sunglasses up and plopped her bag on the desk giving Tommy a questioning look.
“Good morning dear, talented, wonderful Carla,” Tommy chirped. “I brought you a soy vanilla mocha. With extra whip cream. I know it’s your favorite.”
“Good Lord, you are a chipper one for this early in the morning,” Carla growled and grabbed the mocha out of Tommy’s hand. Carla settled her tiny figure into her desk chair and logged in.
Tommy waited until Carla looked up, one eyebrow raised in irritation.
“You still here? Okay girl, give me the name, and then get the heck out of here until this mocha kicks in. I guarantee you it won’t be for at least twenty minutes. So, give me that name and then scat! Hear me?”
“Fine. Here. I wrote it all down for you,” Tommy handed her a sheet of paper. “Thanks, love. Have I mentioned lately that you are my very, very favorite news researcher at the paper?”
“Get out of here, I said. Let me do my job,” Carla said, waving Tommy off with one hand.
Tommy loped over to her desk, smiling. If anyone could find a home address for Dewey Nelson, it would be Carla Jackson. Tommy had often wondered why Jackson just didn’t tell the publisher of the News to shove it and start her own business as a world-class hacker. She could probably make more in one day than she did at the paper in an entire year. Probably all those good Baptist morals and values kept her at the newspaper with its pittance of a salary, Tommy mused.
Within fifteen minutes, Tommy’s desk phone rang.
“All right. I got it. He’s at 12556 Lakeshore Drive.”
“Oh thanks, Carla! You’re the best.” Tommy grabbed her bag and was ready to bolt out the newsroom door.
“Hold your horses. I’m not done. He’s got a rap sheet.”
“Are you serious?”
“As a heart attack. It was a juvenile record. Expunged, but I got it.”
“Of course, you did.”
“He was convicted of exposing himself when he was seventeen. He apparently took a bunch of the neighborhood kids into a shed and wanted to play doctor.”
“Holy smokes!” Tommy’s stomach lurched madly. This is the man who had Rafael? She needed to rescue him this instant.
“I got more.”
“I’m listening.”
“His cousin is Danny Meko.”
The police chief.