George (Eight)

I had 2 shots of bourbon to celebrate. Woulda had 1, but it always gets lonely by itself. Went back to the office around closing time. Dara and me traded notes like I was some slob college kid and we were in some study group [I'm so pleased I've had such an effect on Trace's anti-intellectualism. When he handed me the spray paint and keys, I suspected he may well have not sobered up from his overnight surveillance. Most of the fingerprints had smeared, but I managed to retrieve a few clear partial prints from the spray can.

My laptop sports a rudimentary biometric reader, which matches my fingerprint against the stored master, in theory. In practice, it locks me out for hours on end. However, the camera does capture fairly high-resolution images of fingerprints. After some work, I was able to use it to image most of the clear prints. Comparing Trace's scanned print to the pulled images revealed all but one were his doing.

After some judicial use of common passwords, I found myself able to access the police department's database of stored fingerprints. A search proved pointless, but we at least had a valid print.

As for the house key, I contacted Tara for a consult. I drove to her shop and handed her the key. She wolf-whistled, then stuck it under a magnifying glass. A few more minutes of whistling, and Tara pointed out a slight bulge beneath the metal, a RFID chip.

Tara returned the key with an air of reverence. The only location she knew where these locks were in use was the Evergreen Gardens gated community. -Dara].

We went to Evergreen Gardens. Dara called Oscar, asked if he'd let us in. It'd been a while since we talked, and I saw rings on his and Paul's hands. Congratulated them on their marriage. They tried to hug me, but I just shook their hands.

Evergreen Gardens had another 43 houses to go through, aside from Oscar's and Paul's. We went around, Dara asking if they'd lost keys, cause we'd found em around the way. Most of em gave me the evil eye, upturned nose, but I just gave it right back.

We came to a house with a fence, sign that said “No Solicitators”, and 2 rottweilers lying there, waiting till we got close. They barked up a storm like we were the Grim Reaper.

Dara turned milk-white, worse than normal [Hilarious. - Dara]. She shoved the key in my hand, told me to go on in. Them dogs, they were clawing at the fence, barking and spraying dog spit every which way.