The voice in his head wasn’t wrong. Lucky for him, he had the skills and equipment to find out for himself.
Right fucking now.
Ivan popped the metal top off the chilled bottle, tossing the cap onto the counter near the sink as he made his way out of the modern galley kitchen. Rounding the corner, he walked down the hall toward the apartment’s two bedrooms.
One was used for sleep, the other for situations such as this.
He entered the first room. The one set up as his office. And even he had to admit it was an impressive set-up.
With its walls painted a dark gray, the modest space had been redone to fit his every tech need. As Monroe Investigation’s one and only technical analyst, it was his job to run backgrounds, do deep-dive searches, and perform the occasional hacking job in order to find the information he and Jax needed for any given case. Hence the custom computer he’d built himself, the curved oversized computer monitor, separate laptop, and other pieces of equipment necessary to get the job done.
Taking a seat at his u-shaped desk, Ivan set his beer down onto a coaster and his phone next to that. Then he got to work.
Using the biometric system installed in his computer, he waited for his fingerprint to be scanned and identified. His monitor came to life two seconds later.
Opening the program he’d designed himself, Ivan began typing in Cera’s full name. He’d been prepared to ask for her driver’s license himself, but he’d gotten lucky and caught a glimpse of it when she’d handed it to Declan upon his and Thorne’s arrival at the hotel.
Having committed the spelling to memory, Ivan couldn’t help but smile thinking it was as unique as the woman herself…
Cera Nicole Davidson.
He entered her first, middle, and last names into their appropriate boxes. Pressing the “Return” button on his keyboard, he kept his focus on the screen and waited. He’d look into every aspect of her background eventually, but he wanted the most recent reports, first.
The program he started with was designed to search for any and all law enforcement reports, charges filed, prison records, and/or court cases by name. Cera had referenced reports filed in Durango and Colorado springs. A few clicks of the keyboard, and he’d know for sure whether she was bullshitting him or telling the truth.
Within seconds, he was staring at an official report filed with the Colorado Springs Police Department. Listed as the complainant… Cera Nicole Davidson from Oklahoma City, Oklahoma.
From there, he did another quick search. Using the personal information from the report—social security number, date of birth, LKA, or last known address—Ivan also confirmed she was who she said she was.
Though Ivan wasn’t really surprised by either confirmation—he was a pretty good judge of character, after all—it did relieve some of the tension in his neck and shoulders. He wasn’t fully relaxed, however. Not yet.
Because while Cera may have been forthcoming with her real name and the issues she’d had in Colorado Springs, his gut still gnawed with the feeling she was hiding something. And he intended to figure it out before the night’s end.
Going back to the most recent report filed with the CSPD, Ivan gave it a thorough read. Just as Cera had said, she’d told the officers there the same things she’d shared with him and Declan.
A little over four months ago, she began receiving harassing texts and the occasional anonymous phone call. As time went on, she began finding the notes.
On her car. In her mailbox. On the welcome mat she’d kept on her doorstep.
From what he could tell, it was that last one that had sent her running to Denver. And as he read over the reports from Durango, he found more of the same having been reported before that.
Ivan reached for his beer and swallowed a long pull. He was sitting the bottle back down onto the coaster when his phone dinged with an incoming text. Picking it up, he was surprised to see it was a message from Jax.
Jax:Just landed. Everything cool?
Ivan:All good here.
It wasn’t a lie. A situation arose, but he was handling it. Plus, he hadn’t done anything outside the scope of his expertise nor had he acted in even the slightest way that could possibly come back on Jax or the business.
So yeah. He was good.
Jax:You need anything, holler.
Ivan:Quit texting me and give that pretty wife of yours some attention.
Jax’s only response was an emoji of a hand flipping him the bird. That text was followed by another one of a kissy face. Ivan chuckled and sat his phone back down.
“Asshole.” A playful mutter.