CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“It can’t be a coincidence,” Avery said when they were back in the car.
“I just can’t believe your boy Randall came through for you.” Ramirez howled. “Who would have thought that Howard Randall would give you some honest intel?”
Avery pointed at her dashboard computer.
“See what you can find on Deluca. If he’s not in the system, we’ll split up. You’ll take the registrar at BU and I’ll head to Venemeer’s bookstore. If he worked there, they paid him checks so his address should be on file.”
Her car computer came with the same identification system they had in the office, only with a higher security system because it often used an unsecure wireless account.
Ramirez typed on the keyboard.
“Got him,” he said.
The police mug shot showed an angry, agitated young man, most
