Dave Johnson scaled Mount Everest, rub-bing his pounding temples. How much longer would this take? Two weeks now of fourteen and sixteen hour days researching unusual deposits, and all he had to show for it was a slim few leads, a whole lot of dead ends, the financial profiles of 1,300 police officers that Zolgron had force fed him, and a migraine.
And worse, what if Zolgron took over totally?
He entered his bedroom and shed his janitor coveralls. The alarm clock went off. His wife yawned and sat up in bed, smiling sleepily at him. “Dave, we haven’t talked in ages.”
“I’d love to talk.” He smack off the alarm and cuddled up to Naomi.
“You’re withdrawing again. Where are you going all weekend?”
“But the public library’s only open to five on Saturdays, and it’s closed entirely on Sundays. Where are you researching?”
“Groton’s All Night Cyber café.”
“What are you researching that you can’t research on our computer?”
Dave hesitated. “Banking.”
Naomi arched an eyebrow. “Why?”
“Um, thinking about the future, you know, maybe a different job.”
“I know someone at our branch. You could probably get in as a teller.”
“I’m not certain I want to go into that. There’s a lot you need to know, like every single transaction on every single account.”
“Come on, Dave. It’s not that hard.”
Easy for her to say. Her brain wasn’t overflowing with banking information. “I want to look at other options, too. What have you been doing?”
Babble flowed out of his wife’s mouth, an auditory sledge hammer that split his skull open, or it sure felt like it, anyway. “Naomi, forget it. Can I just hold you?”
He curled up closer. “You know what I like about you? You’re a human being.”
“I like human beings.”
Dave yawned contentedly and let his heavy eyes close. When was the last time he felt this happy? He could hardly remember.
Continued Next Tuesday.