The heavy padlock clicked shut on Unit B-17. Ace stood outside his new storage unit, the morning sun warming the metal door. He had a workspace. He had Big Mike’s help, at least for a week. Now, he needed brains. He needed someone who could find opportunities, research problems, and help him plan. He needed Evelyn.
He walked the short distance back to the Nite Owl Motel. The new "Network Ping" skill hummed softly at the edge of his awareness – a comforting reward for securing his base. As he passed Room 5, a faint electronic signal blinked in his mind – probably a guest’s phone. Near the office, a stronger, steady signal pulsed – Mike’s computer. It was strange but useful, like having a sixth sense for nearby electronics. He focused on his own room, Room 7. No signals came from inside. Good. It was quiet.
He stopped outside Apartment 2A. Taking a deep breath, he knocked firmly on Evelyn’s door. He could hear movement inside. A moment later, the door opened. Evelyn stood there, dressed in jeans and a soft sweater, her hair slightly messy. She looked surprised to see him so early. Her eyes flicked to the toolbox he carried.
"Ace? Everything okay? More window trouble?" she asked, a hint of worry in her voice. She remembered him running out a few days ago.
"No, there is no trouble right now," Ace said quickly. "The window is fine. Actually, I was hoping to talk to you about a job."
Evelyn blinked. "A job? Do you need something else fixed?"
"Not exactly," Ace said. He shifted his weight. "Can I come in for a minute? I promise it won’t take long, and there will be no sudden escapes this time."
Evelyn studied his face for a second, then smiled slightly. "Sure. Come on in." She stepped aside, letting him enter her book-filled apartment.
Ace walked in, feeling the familiar warmth and clutter. He set his toolbox down near the door. "I’ve got a space now," he started. "I rented a small storage unit near the motel. I am setting it up as a workshop."
"That’s great!" Evelyn said, genuinely pleased. "Moving up from motel room repairs is a big step."
"Yeah," Ace nodded. "But fixing things is only part of it. I need information. I need someone smart who can look at the bigger picture." He met her eyes. "I need someone who can research things – like local businesses needing help, gaps in the market, and potential clients beyond just broken appliances. I need someone who can help me figure out what to focus on next."
Evelyn leaned against her kitchen counter, crossing her arms. Her expression was thoughtful and curious. "Are you talking about me?"
"I am," Ace said. "You found the laundromat job. You notice things. You are clearly smart and observant. I saw your sketches; you see the city differently." He paused, gathering his courage. "I need a researcher and a strategist. Part-time, for now. I can pay you." He pulled out his remaining cash. After paying $140 for the storage unit and $25 for the worktable, he had started the day with $986.35 - $140 - $25 = $821.35. He had then paid Big Mike $200, leaving him with $621.35. He counted out $120 – six crisp twenty-dollar bills. He placed them on her small table. "This covers your first week for fifteen hours at eight dollars per hour. If this arrangement works well, we can discuss increasing your hours and pay later."
Evelyn looked at the money, then back at Ace. She picked up one of the twenty-dollar bills, turning it over in her fingers. "Research. Strategy." She looked around her apartment, at her sketchbook on the table, then back at Ace. "Honestly? It sounds much more interesting than just slinging coffee. And definitely more interesting than biology homework." A slow smile spread across her face. "Okay, Ace. You have yourself a researcher. On a trial basis." She picked up the money. "What is my first assignment?"
Relief washed over Ace. "First, help me figure out what to call this operation. ’Ace Solutions’ sounds lame. And second..." He lowered his voice slightly. "I need information on Deke. Not just where his pawn shop is, but how he operates. Who he owes money to. Who owes him. Any weaknesses. Anything public you can find."
Evelyn’s smile faded, replaced by seriousness. She nodded. "Deke. Right. Okay. Consider it done." She pocketed the cash. "I will start digging after my shift at The Grind House today. Where is your workshop?"
"Unit B-17, Apex Mini-Storage, right behind the motel," Ace said. "I will be there later setting up. You can find me there, or we can meet here, or at the library."
"Got it," Evelyn said. "I will report back once I have something useful."
"Thanks, Evelyn," Ace said sincerely. "Really."
"Do not thank me yet," she said, her smile returning. "Wait until you see my research fees after the trial week." She winked, lightening the mood.
Ace smiled back. "Fair enough. I will let you get ready for work." He picked up his toolbox. "I’ll talk to you soon."
He left Evelyn’s apartment, the door closing softly behind him. He felt energized. He had done it. Evelyn was on board. His small team was forming: Mike for security and local knowledge, Evelyn for brains and research. He had a base. He had cash ($621.35 - $120 = $501.35 remaining after paying Evelyn).
He walked downstairs and headed towards his new storage unit. As he approached the chain-link fence of Apex Mini-Storage, the Network Ping skill suddenly flared. Two strong, active electronic signals pulsed nearby, coming from just inside the gate. Phones. And they weren’t moving.
Ace slowed down. He peered cautiously around the corner of the fence. Leaning against a storage unit near the entrance, looking bored and slightly menacing, were two men. He recognized them instantly. They were the same two thugs who had tried to break into Room 7 – Crowbar and Knife Guy. They were watching the entrance to the storage lot. Waiting.
Deke hadn’t forgotten. He hadn’t given up. He was watching. Ace’s new base wasn’t as secret as he’d hoped. The twelve-day clock suddenly felt much louder. He needed Evelyn’s information fast. He needed a plan to deal with Deke. And he needed it before Deke decided to make his next move. Ace ducked back, his heart pounding. The game was definitely on.