Pyramid Deception by Austin S. Camacho Page B

seconds before she began to speak.
    â€œYou know, the tat seemed out of place.”
    Hannibal glanced at Cindy, whose eyes popped open at Stone’s comment. “A tattoo?”
    â€œYeah,” Stone said. “I mean, here’s this guy in a nice suit and tie and all, hair cut nice and neat, and there’s this tat sticking up out of his collar, like a flame or something. I mean I’m looking at him and it’s like, what’s wrong with this picture?”
    Hannibal stared at Cindy who clenched her lips together so tightly that her lower lip poked out and shook her left to right.
    â€œYou’ve been a big help, Miss Stone,” Hannibal said.
    â€œIt’s Lane,” she said.
    â€œWell, Lane, I’ll be in touch about that reward if this pans out.”
    â€œHey, just call when you know something, okay?” she said. “Usually people just blow by. Sometimes I make up stories about where they’re going and what they’ll do when they get there. I’d just kind of like to know what happened to them.”
    Hannibal promised to keep her informed, Cindy thanked her, and they headed back to the car. As soon as they were outside again Hannibal said, “I don’t remember Jason having a tattoo that showed over his collar.”
    â€œI remember us talking in law school about how things like tattoos or piercings could hurt your career. Believe me, he’d never consider it. So now we talk to the police, right? We’ve got solid evidence that it wasn’t them that got on the train yesterday. At least, it wasn’t Jason.”
    â€œNo, it’s still too soon,” Hannibal said, opening the door for Cindy and watching her perfect legs swivel up and into place inthe car. He closed her door and walked around to get behind the wheel.
    â€œSo what else can we do?” Cindy asked as he started the Volvo. “I don’t see how we can know who the imposters were who got on the train yesterday, and by now they could be anywhere.”
    â€œHey, we know they were imposters,” Hannibal said. “That’s a valuable piece of the puzzle. And we know some valuable things about them. But we also know some other things the police don’t know, things they don’t care about because they’re investigating a disappearance while we’re investigating a murder.”
    Cindy leaned her head back and sighed. “Okay, Sherlock, what do we know?”
    Hannibal poked at his sound system controls and the tight harmony of The Temptations filled the vehicle. Then he nudged the climate control to a slightly higher temperature. “Irene told me that she had gone to an accountant to try to prove that her husband had milked her inheritance. With some legwork I might be able to figure out who she talked to, and he might be able to add a motive to our murder theory.”
    â€œI’ll bet we won’t have to search,” Cindy said, turning the temperature setting back down. “Here’s what I think. If Irene and Jason were that tight she’d have asked him who to get, and he’d have recommended one of the CPAs we work with at the firm.”
    â€œHey, that’s a great start,” Hannibal said with a smile. “How many accountant firms do you work with?”
    â€œAs I think about it, they’d want to be low profile,” Cindy said, poking the button to switch the stereo to radio play. One of those rappers who uses only initials for his name burst into the car. Cindy was bobbing her head to the beat while she spoke. “That would mean Paul Queen. He’s an independent, not part of a big firm, but very discreet.” She began to rhyme along with the tune.
    Hannibal stopped at a light, his eyes clamped shut for a second, his teeth clenched tight. Then the moment passed. Hisright hand moved to the console, pressing the button that returned The Temptations to the airwaves.
    â€œLook here,” Hannibal said,