The Innocents by Nathan Senthil (autobiographies to read .TXT) 📕

a restaurant named Niki’s Pizza. The smell of fresh food bypassed Gabriel’s hurting heart and crept down to his stomach, making it rumble.

He stopped in front of the location they’d programmed into the GPS. A small glass facade with a name board reading CORBY & HEISZ.

“Are you hungry?” Bill asked.

“Let’s get it over with.” Gabriel reversed the car and parked in front of the pizza joint. Then he helped Bill down.

Gabriel bought a square pizza with plain mozzarella cheese, and Bill got something called Greek Pizza. His face brightened as soon as he took a bite. He wolfed it down in a few minutes and ordered a second slice. In those fleeting seconds, Gabriel saw the glimpse of the old Bill. Curious, child-like, and full of wonder.

And it broke his heart.

For the millionth time, Gabriel promised himself that he would be the end of Lolly.

* * *

As they crossed the threshold into CORBY & HEISZ, a draft of cool air blew down on Gabriel and ruffled his hair. Both the lobby and reception were empty. There was a glass door on the left, but it required an access card to open. Beside the door, a beige couch was pushed up against the wall, a coffee table placed in front. Tabloids and newspapers were strewn above it. One headline read: Lack of funding. Several libraries in Detroit at risk of closure. The other screamed: The first Kardashian BILLIONAIRE!

As Gabriel considered sitting Bill down, a beep sounded and the door opened. A woman was laughing and chatting to someone behind the door, before closing it.

“Um… can I help you?” she asked, then walked to the reception desk and positioned herself behind it. Her laughter ceased and her expression turned grim.

Gabriel didn’t blame her. He sported a two-inch thick unruly beard and rampant hair that flew out in all directions like Einstein’s. Emma, his partner in the NYPD, had said that Gabriel looked like a recovering drug addict who was on the verge of slipping. It was true to an extent. Except his drug of choice was alcohol.

The receptionist’s eyes travelled to Bill’s face, then settled on his legs. And she relaxed a little. No criminal came on a crutch, she might have assumed. Most people were under the presumption that a wounded or handicapped man was harmless. This bias made them vulnerable, and killers capitalized on it. Just ask Bundy.

Gabriel showed her his badge. “We’d like to talk to someone from logistics.”

“Sure,” she said. “Let me call Dave.”

She lifted the telephone and murmured in it.

A minute later, the glass door beeped again and a young man appeared. He wore glasses, carried an iPad, and dressed in what these corporate types called business casuals.

Dave greeted them, motioned to the couch, and helped Bill down before sitting.

Gabriel said, “I need something from your sales records. If you want a warrant, I can get one faxed here in ten minutes.”

“Nah.” Dave waved it off. “It’s not like I’m gonna give you information about our ultra secretive project.”

Gabriel frowned. “Huh?”

Dave lowered his voice. “We’re disguising as a candy factory but actually building a lunar base for world domination.”

Gabriel slowly shook his head, without offering even a twitch of a smile. He was not up for Dave’s funnies.

“I-I’m…” Dave managed an embarrassed grin. “My stupid attempt at a joke. But I see it’s a serious matter.”

“Very.”

“So… um, do I really not need a warrant before giving out information?”

That was the one question you never asked a cop who wanted to look into your house. So naturally Gabriel said, “No, you don’t.”

“Alrighty then. What do you need?” Dave unlocked his iPad.

“Tell us about Zesty.”

Dave brought up a program on the tablet. “It used to be one of our bestselling lollipops but not anymore.”

“Why’s that?”

“I don’t know, I’m not from marketing.” Dave shrugged.

“How many shops still stock them? And look only in Detroit.”

Dave swiped and typed and did his magic on his iPad, before he said, “Thirteen. Hope you aren’t superstitious.” He slid his glasses up his nose. “Let me guess. You need their details.”

Gabriel nodded. “If you’d be so kind, thank you.”

Dave touched the iPad and something chimed in the lobby, but not from the device in his hands.

When he turned to the receptionist, she said, “Yup. Got the email. Want me to print it?”

“Yes, please.” Dave turned back to Gabriel. “Anything else?”

“Yes. The thirteen shops buying Zesty, that’s this year, right?”

“Correct.”

“Can you tell me how many shops regularly bought it back in 1981?”

Instead of responding, Dave gaped at Gabriel.

“What?”

“No. It’s… it’s so long ago. Our servers don’t have that data. The earliest records I got for you are from the mid-2000s.” Dave worked on his iPad. “In 2006, just over 400 shops in Detroit bought Zesty.”

“How do I get older records, before that?”

“From physical logbooks, I guess?”

To the good ol’ backbreaking police work then, Gabriel thought. “Okay. Point us to your archives.”

“No, sir. They’re at our HQ in Wyoming.” Dave gave an apologetic smile. “I’m afraid this is the limit of my capacity to help you.”

Well, that wasn’t enough.

Inhaling a large volume of air, Gabriel closed his eyes and collected his thoughts.

No worries, he assuaged himself. It was still a win. Because an idea had just popped up in his mind.

Chapter 31

May 10, 2019. 02:37 P.M.

Back in the car, Gabriel called Conor.

Though his new FBI friend had promised Gabriel that he would do everything in his power to help him catch Lolly, Gabriel didn’t believe that it was an altruistic gesture. As a new SAC, Conor was given the responsibility of BISKIT. Catching the most wanted bank robber in the US would bolster his position. True, it was not the BISKIT’s job to