We continued tracking down retired shareholders, only now we sent Aria to canvass the neighbors while we checked the address. While we struck out five more times, Aria was surprisingly adept at questioning people. We heard of two more instances where Compliance raided dwellings, ransacking the places until they recovered the shareholder certificates. By this point, it was certain something was off with the numbers.

  “I have to admit I’m a little surprised how good you are at talking to people,” I said to Aria. “You don’t seem to have a lot of patience most of the time.”

  “Of course I can talk to people,” Aria said. “I’d been a pretty shit bartender if I couldn’t hold a conversation. Boobs only bring in so much for tips. I can talk to anybody. I just don’t waste my time with assholes or dipshits. Unless they’re paying.”

  “Boobs are a flexible resource,” Marko said. “One of the best poker players I ever met was, err, generously endowed. She always wore low cut tops and did her best to drop poker chips once or twice a game. She was so good she probably didn’t need to bother, but an edge is an edge.”

  Aria nodded in agreement.

  “I knew I was dressed right when girlfriends stared at my chest as often as their dates.”

  “Let’s hit one more address before we call it a day,” I said, moving the topic away from boobs. “I’m starting to get hungry and we still have to find the Lux.”

  “I’m fine with that,” Marko said. “We’ve eliminated nearly half the names on our list. We can check out the rest tomorrow, and we already have some good info to share with our buddy, Octar.”

  Aria followed navigation’s directions and fifteen minutes or so later we turned into a housing complex. The address we were looking for was at the end of a row of condominiums. Aria parked on the street and as soon as we got out of the car, we could hear a small dog yapping from inside the condo.

  “Sounds like someone is home,” I said.

  “Let’s hope it isn’t just the dog,” Marko said.

  Aria joined us as we approached the door and I gave her an inquisitive look.

  “I like dogs,” she said, shrugging.

  Marko knocked on the door and the barking intensified. I heard someone moving toward the door and talking to their pet.

  “Yes, yes, Mr. Chips, I hear it.”

  The door opened a crack, and I could see green skin and an eye peering out from behind the security chain.

  “Can I help you?” It was a male voice, older sounding and barely discernable over the barking.

  “Ely Hobbs?” Marko said.

  The gobbek nodded.

  “Mr. Hobbs, we’re here because there’s been some confusion about FlexTech’s shareholder certificates. My associates and I are independent investigators working with concerned parties within FlexTech to assess the situation.”

  “Are you working for that Limon woman?” Hobbs said. “If you are, I already told her to mind her own business!”

  Mr. Chips growled at Harper’s surname.

  “I assure you, we are in no way associated with Ms. Limon,” Marko said.

  “Harper can get fucked,” Aria added.

  For a moment, the only sound was Mr. Chips barking.

  “You might as well come in,” Hobbs said.

  The door closed, rattled slightly as he undid the chain, then opened fully. Mr. Chips rushed out, barking, tail wagging, and spinning in circles. Aria laughed and went to one knee to pet him. I’m not great with dog breeds, but I thought this might be a poodle mix of some kind. It had that curly fur that looks more like hair and shiny button eyes. The dog was tannish white and probably weighed all of five pounds. Mr. Chips’ tail was a blur as he lavished kisses on Aria, who was giving his ears a good double-handed scratch. Mr. Hobbs smiled.

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  “If Mr. Chips likes you, you can’t be too bad,” he said.

  He scooped up the dog and waved for us to enter, closing the door behind us. Mr. Chips wriggled and squirmed until his owner put him back down, then went back to spinning and wagging by our feet, without the barking this time. The living room was tidy with well-loved furniture, an eclectic array of lamps, and a modestly sized television. Mr. Hobbs waved us toward the couch and we sat, with Mr. Chips quickly taking up residence on Aria’s lap.

  “Can I offer you something to drink?” Hobbs said. “I don’t have any soda, but I can whip up some tea or coffee.”

  “Thank you, but no,” I said.

  Marko and Aria also declined, and the elderly gobbek sank into a recliner. He was wearing gray sweatpants and a band shirt I didn’t recognize under an unzipped hoodie, with white slippers on his feet. The wrinkles on his green skin and the sliver in his hair gave away his age, but his eyes were sharp as he looked us over.

  “KMFDM,” Aria said, nodding to the gobbek’s T-shirt. “That’s a great band. I bet you loved them as a teenager.”

  Mr. Hobbs laughed.

  “That’s blatant flattery, missy,” he said, shaking a finger at Aria. “I enjoy their music, but I was old enough to buy my own tickets when they started touring.”

  Mr. Chips flipped over on Aria’s lap, presenting his belly. Mr. Hobbs watched her pet the dog with a smile, then sighed.

  “While I appreciate the company, you didn’t come here for Mr. Chips or to talk about old bands,” he said. “What is it you want to know?”

  “Let’s start with the easiest question,” Marko said. “Do you still have your shareholder certificate?”

  The gobbek nodded.

  “I do,” he said. “And I have no interest in selling.”

  Marko held up a hand, palm out.

  “We aren’t here for the certificate, only for verification. Have you received any recent communications from FlexTech?”

  “I get the newsletter,” Hobbs said. “And the occasional bit of company junk mail. Why?”

  “Have you heard of ZOO?” I asked him.

  “That Limon woman said something about a zoo,” he said. “Also tried to ‘reincorporate’ my certificate. She had the nerve to tell me to lock up Mr. Chips so we could talk without the barking.” He smirked. “My reply might not have been very polite.”

  “So, you haven’t heard anything about the shareholders being asked to vote for or against the ZOO initiative?” Marko said.

  “Nothing,” Hobbs said, shaking his head. “What the blazes is ZOO?”

  Marko explained the meaning of ZOO and what the organization was attempting. Mr. Hobbs looked thoughtful and tapped his forefinger on one knee as he listened.

  “That doesn’t seem like a bad idea,” he said. “Sales have been consistent, but adding a casual line should be good for the company. Why is this the first I’m hearing of it?”

  “Harper,” Aria said. “With help from Compliance.”

  “At least part of HR is obstructing information and actively suppressing ZOO,” Marko said. “We aren’t positive how many people are directly involved, or if they even know what’s really going on. Ms. Limon seems to be the linchpin.”

  “Do you have enough evidence to take to the board?” Hobbs said. “To get her removed?”

  I shook my head.

  “Not even close,” I said. “That’s why we’re here. We’re looking for smoking guns.”

  “If we were able to force a vote, would you attend the meeting?” Marko said.

  “Absolutely,” Hobbs said. “Even I didn’t think it was a good idea, which I do, it’d be worth it to spike that woman’s wheel.”

  Aria grinned at him and scratched Mr. Chips’ chin.

  “We’d like to stay in touch, if that’s OK,” I said. “Do you mind sharing your number?”

  Mr. Hobbs reeled off his number and Marko entered it into the magifone.

  “You might want to keep our conversation to yourself,” Marko said. “Compliance is playing dirty and I don’t know how far they’re willing to go.”

  In response, Mr. Hobbs flipped open the armrest of his recliner and pulled out a pistol. It looked like the .45 SIG Sauer one of the other Brinks guys liked to carry rather than the standard Glock.

  “I have more than Mr. Chips to keep me safe.”

  Adam (GM): I’ve been seeing nibbles around the safeguards I walled you off with. Someone testing the edges. No need to panic, just keep your eyes open. Maybe don’t be out in public this evening.

  Victor: They’re willing to come for us in the open?

  Adam (GM): They don’t care about witnesses or bystanders. Order pizza for dinner. Have it delivered. This will either come to a head, or they’ll have backed off by tomorrow morning.

  I switched chats.

  Victor (Party): We need to go. Adam says we should hole up until tomorrow morning.

  Marko (Party): What’s going on?

  Victor (Party): It might be nothing, but someone’s testing his safeguards.

  Aria (Party): Let’s roll. I’ll lose my shit if anything happens to Mr. Chips.

  Aria gently set the dog down and the three of us stood.

  “We need to go, but thank you for talking with us,” I said. “Any chance you could give us directions to the Lux?”

  Mr. Hobbs’ eyebrows raised.

  “Fancy,” he said. “I knew I should have done consulting.”

  He gave us directions and we headed out, accompanied by the sounds of Mr. Chips.