Boosted Pt. 10

"Get dressed, we're going out," Sean said the moment Maggie answered the phone.

"We are?"

"Yes, we are."

"What's the occasion?"

"Do we need one?"

"Well, no, but you sound like you're in a good mood."

"And why wouldn't I be? I'm about to take the most beautiful woman in North Carolina out to dinner."

Maggie snickered. "You're such a flirt. Okay, sure. Where are we going?"

"Anywhere you like."

"No preferences?"

"None."

"Alright. By the time you get here, I'll have figured something out."

"Great! See you when I get there."

"How long?"

"I'm on my way now."

"I guess I'd better go change."

"See you in a few. Love you."

"Love you too."

He hung up his phone and tossed it on the passenger seat. Arriving at her house, he parked his car, pulled his computer from the back seat, and bounded into the kitchen. Maggie was sitting at the dining table looking at something on her laptop, dressed in jeans and a blouse that was both casual and appealing. He placed his computer in a chair before nuzzling her neck from behind, his hands going around her.

"Are you sure you want to go out? You act like you want to stay in," she teased as she ignored his activities.

"I'm up for that too," he murmured as he looked at the computer screen. "Garden of Seoul?"

"That's what I'm thinking. Something different. You ever had Korean food?"

He thought about it a moment. "Not sure. If I have, it's been a long time."

"Me either." She snapped the lid closed. "Then it's decided."

"You know where the place is?"

"Yeah, in Garner, near the mall." She pushed back her chair and melted into his arms. "So, tell me why you're in such a good mood."

"I'll tell you on the way."

"Okay, but you have to kiss me first."

He gladly granted her request. "You ready?" he asked as their lips parted.

"If you are." She smiled up at him and he felt the tingle her smile always gave him.

"After you."

He led her to his car and shut the door behind her before settling behind the wheel.

"So? Good day at work I assume?" she asked.

He backed out of the garage. "Not bad. A little after lunch the computer finally opened the zip file."

"Was it everything you hoped?"

He couldn't help but smile. "Yeah. And more. I found all kinds of documents. I'll give CJ this, she was good. I have forged titles, shipping documents, bills of sale, all kinds of stuff, going back fifteen years."

"She's been doing this for fifteen years without getting caught?"

"Looks like it. Maybe more. Just because that's how far back the records go doesn't mean that's when she started."

"Wow."

He nodded. "Yeah. Like I said, she's good... was good."

"So, what was she doing exactly? I know you said she was cloning VIN numbers, but I don't understand how that fits into the big picture."

"She would get a VIN for a certain type of car, a car that was in another state, let's say a blue 2013 Honda Civic that was in New Mexico or somewhere."

"Like mine?"

"Yeah. So, she'd--"

"Wait! How'd she do that?"

"There are lists out there, just like there are lists of stolen credit card numbers. Anyway, she'd look around until she found another blue 2013 Civic in the area. She'd steal that, bring it to her shop, and then change the VIN tags on the stolen car to the VIN of the other car, the one in New Mexico. Follow?"

"Yeah, so far. How could she change the VIN number, though?"

"I'm sure she has a machine somewhere that will duplicate a VIN plate. I'll bet she also has an embosser for the titles as well. They're not at BIGS because we looked for them, but she has to have them tucked away somewhere."

"Where do you think they are?"

"I have no idea. We may never find them. I suspect now that the DA has proof, he'll have her house searched, but I bet they don't find anything. CJ was really good about keeping things separated so someone couldn't easily connect the dots."

"So, once she has the VIN plate, she takes off the original VIN and puts the new one on?"

"Plates, there's more than one, but yeah, that's all there is to it. Once she did that, she'd create a forged title and bill of sale for the car using the stolen VIN, and then take all that to the DMV and register the car in her name. Since the VIN on the car no longer matched the one that was reported stolen, the state would issue the title, and voilà, she has a car with a clean title. She'd sell it on to the next person and pocket the money."

"Who would buy a car without a key? I assume when they steal the car, they don't get the keys, do they? I mean, aren't most people smart enough to know not to leave the keys in the ignition?"

"Yeah, but you can have a key made if you have the VIN for the car."

"You can do that?"

"Yes. You have to show proof of ownership of the vehicle, but once you do, a dealer can order you a new key."

"She was having keys made too? Seems like a lot of work and risk for a five-thousand-dollar car."

"Which is why she only did it on expensive cars. Cars like your Civic, she'd dismantle and sell the parts. Less risk that way."

"But how did she get the car in the first place? That's what I don't understand. Did she have a key made and use that to steal the car?"

"No. It doesn't work like that. The key has to be made to the VIN on the stolen car. Just because your car looks exactly like another, that doesn't mean it uses the same key, and with these new cars, you have to program the key to the car. In fact, if the guy who buys the car tries to get a key made, it won't work because the VIN on the car is wrong. The keys CJ are providing are programmed using the cars' original VIN. That's why they work, but you can't tell by looking at them what VIN the keys are programmed to, so you'd never know... until you tried to replace it."

"So, if you had a new key made, it wouldn't work?"

"If you copied the key from an existing one it'd work, but if you had the key made from the VIN, no, it wouldn't work."

"Okay, but how'd she get the car? I assume all these new, expensive, cars have the fancy schmancy electronic keys. You'd think someone would notice their car being put on a tow truck."

"Yeah, but that's not how they do it. They're way slicker than that. There's a gizmo available that will capture the signal from your key and rebroadcast it to the car. Obviously, it's illegal as hell, but they're stealing cars, so they don't care. Anyway, one guy stands by the car while the other uses a companion device to find the key's signal. Once he gets in range, and it doesn't have to be that close, maybe fifty or sixty feet, one box talks to the other. The car thinks the key is beside it, they unlock the doors, start the car, and drive away."

"You're kidding?" she cried, her voice telegraphing her surprise.

He shook his head. "Nope. I've seen it done in a demonstration. The range is limited to five or six hundred feet, less if the boxes have to talk to each other through a bunch of walls, but that's still plenty to steal your car from a club or house. Once they have the car, then they get new keys made, program them to the car, and there you have it."

"Wow."

"You're saying that a lot," he teased.

She smiled. "Yeah. You make all this sound easy."

"Not easy, but not impossible. You have to have connections to get the VINs and the boxes to spoof the car because you can't buy that stuff at Walmart. The hardest part is probably finding a car to match the stolen VINs. CJ was good. She was very good."

"But not as good as you."

"Apparently not."

"Do you think she was stealing the cars herself?"

"I doubt it. I suspect she had a crew to do that for her. She'd put out word what she was looking for, or maybe they'd report what they could steal, and she'd check to see if she had a VIN to match. Whatever they were doing, once they had a car and VIN, they'd grab the car if they could."

"Lesson here is, keep your car in the garage. You'd think the state would catch that the title had the wrong VIN number, though."

He shrugged. "It was a valid VIN, it matched the car being registered, there was a bill of sale, and there was a title with the VIN on it. As far as the state was concerned, it was a legitimate sale."

"But isn't each car supposed to have a unique VIN number? That's what you told me when you explained this to me the last time."

"It does, but that's why she made sure the car that was donating the VIN was from out of state, so it wouldn't show up as a duplicate in the North Carolina's DMV database. Because the owner of the car that donated its VIN still had his car, it wasn't reported stolen or anything, so..." He shrugged.

Maggie sat quietly for a moment. "It seems like CJ thought of everything." She paused and then grinned at him. "Well, all but one thing."

"What's that?"

"She didn't count on Sean McGhee, ace investigator."

He snickered. "That's right. She done did messed up when she moved into my jurisdiction," he said, putting on his best southern red neck drawl. It wasn't very convincing and caused Maggie to giggle at his attempt.

"That's right. So, what happens now?"

"I sent all the information to the DA and the Wilmington PD."

"Wilmington PD?"

"Yeah. The cars she sells, she's selling out of the country. That way, even if the new owner realizes the car is stolen, it will be that much more difficult to trace it back to her. I suspect tomorrow the Wilmington PD is going to pay Global Container Services, the shipping company, a visit."

"You think they're in on it too?"

"No, probably not. By the time GCS sees the cars, everything looks completely legit."

"Wow," she said again. "So, it's case closed?"

He smiled and nodded. "Pretty much. I'm going to call this Russian dude tomorrow and let him know he's been buying stolen cars. Even if he knew what he was doing, I'll never be able to prove it, and even if I could, I'm not sure there's anything I could do about it. He's in Russia after all."

"You think he knows?"

He nodded. "Yeah. I think he knows exactly what's going on."

She tsked. "I'm glad you caught them, but it's too bad."

"Why's that?"

"Because now you're not going to have someplace close to work on your Jag."

He shrugged again. "Oh well."

"Still," she added, brightening. "That seems like a pretty big feather in your cap, breaking a car theft ring that's been operating for fifteen years."

"All part of the job."

She snickered. "You're not fooling me. You're feeling pretty pleased with yourself... as you should."

He couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, okay, maybe a little."

With Maggie's help, he found Garden of Seoul. They ordered, with a little help from the waitstaff, and enjoyed kimchi, bibimbap, japchae, and samgyeopsal. For the first time, Maggie felt confident enough in her skills to try using chopsticks in public. She still struggled a bit, but she had improved immensely in the year since he'd taught her how to use the utensils.

"How'd you like it?" she asked as they sauntered back to his car.

"Pretty good. I'm almost sure, now, this was my first experience with Korean food."

"Definitely mine. I didn't know there were metal chopsticks."

"I did, but that was my first time using them."

"I still need practice."

"Nobody said oriental food was the only thing you could eat with them."

"Yeah, maybe, but fried chicken and mashed potatoes would be kind of hard, don't you think?"

He grinned. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure I'd have trouble with that myself."

He opened the passenger door of the car and she settled inside. He walked around to the driver's side and slid in behind the wheel before he started the car and backed out of the parking space. They drove along in companionable silence. They'd reached the point in their relationship where they didn't have to fill every moment with conversation or activities and could simply enjoy each other's company.

"I've been thinking," Maggie said when they were about halfway home, watching out of the side glass and not looking at him as she spoke.

"Uh-oh," he grunted but then smiled at her.

"You've been spending a lot of time at my house lately."

A slight chill rushed through him. He didn't know where this conversation was going, but he hoped he hadn't overstayed his welcome. "Is that a problem? If it is, I can--"

"No, not at all," she interrupted as she turned to look at him. "I've enjoyed having you around."

"I've enjoyed being around, but if you're feeling smothered, I'll--"

"No. No!" she said, interrupting again. "With you having to put Marmalade down, I could understand you wanting to take a little time away from your place." She paused and turned to look out of her window again, but he sensed there was more she wanted to say, so he kept quiet. "You've been mowing my yard, taking care of my car, and you've done some things to my house."

She fell silent but still didn't look at him. He still wasn't sure where she was going with the conversation. "I told you when I started mowing it was because I wanted to play with your mower. The rest of it..." He shrugged. "I was there, so why not do it? You're not upset are you?"

She shook her head and then looked at him again. "No." She huffed out a sigh. "I guess what I'm saying is, you act like you live there, so... why don't you?"

"Why don't I what?"

"Live there. Move in with me."

That stopped him cold. "Are you sure that's what you want?" he asked slowly.

"Yeah, I think so."

"But you're not sure?"

"It's been a long time since I've lived with anyone, not since I was married."

"Same here."

"But we're together practically all the time anyway, right? Nothing would change except we'd always come home to my house, right?"

His heart was pounding. "Yeah, but this is a big step."

"I know. If you don't want to do it, I understand. We can keep going like we are."

"Are you sure that's what you want?"

She nodded slowly. "Yeah, I'm sure."

He didn't feel quite as buoyant as when she'd said she loved him, but close. "Then I'd love to."

She smiled and placed her hand on his thigh and looked down, as if shy. "I'm glad. I've been thinking about this for a while."

He took her hand and brought it to his lips to kiss her fingers. "What made you decide now was the time?" She shrugged, a small smile tugging at her lips. She knew but didn't want to tell him. "Come on, I'd like to know."

She looked at him, her eyes soft. "You told me that you loved me."

"I should have told you that a long time ago."

She gripped his hand. "It's okay. That was a big step too."

"And scary."

Her smile grew. "Scary?"

"Yeah. I was worried it would scare you away, or you wouldn't feel the same, or... something."

She snickered as he turned into her drive. "Why would you think that?"

This time it was him who shrugged. "Stupid."

"Well, don't be stupid anymore. You can tell me anything."

"Oh really? What if I told you that I loved you?"

She beamed at him as his car rolled to a stop in the garage. "I'd think you were pretty smart."

He leaned over and kissed her quickly before they opened their doors and exited the car. "When do you want to do this?"

"You moving in?"

"Yes," he said as they stepped into the kitchen.

"Anytime I guess. This weekend?"

"I'll keep my place for a few more months, just in case."

"Do you think you'll need it?"

He pulled her into an embrace. "No, but better safe than sorry."

"If it makes you feel better," she murmured into his chest.

"It's not that, but we've been taking it slow and that seems to be working for us, plus I need a place to store my stuff anyway, right?"

"Yeah, you're right."

He kissed her on the head. "So, this weekend we'll move my clothes and stuff, and then, in a couple of months, if everything seems to still be going well, we'll put the rest in storage. You want my bedroom furniture for your guest room?"

Maggie's house had three bedrooms. Their bedroom was nicely furnished with a queen-size bed and quality oak furniture. One of the guest rooms was furnished with descent but older furniture that she'd used until she upgraded. Then there was the third room that was a mish-mash of cheap stuff that looked like she'd picked up at garage sales, or maybe Goodwill. If they replaced the junk in the third bedroom, they'd have two bedrooms with nice, high-quality furniture and bedding, and a third with serviceable furniture and bedding. It was a win-win because his mattress wouldn't be stuck in a storage unit getting musty and Maggie could get rid of the ramshackle furniture in the third bedroom.

"You don't have to do that."

"If I didn't want to do it, I wouldn't have offered."

She was still a moment and then nodded. "Then sure, thanks. If anything happens..."

"I know. But I don't think that'll be a problem, do you?"

He felt her smile against his chest. "No."

He gently pushed her away and tipped her face up. "Love you."

"Love you too."

He brought his lips to hers for a lingering kiss. They still had a lot to talk about, how they were going to divide the expenses and the like, but he was sure they could come to an agreement, and they had a week to thrash it out.

He slowly pulled back from the kiss. "What now?"

"Now, you hold me while we watch something on Netflix that will make me cry."

He smiled as he took her face into his hands and gently kissed her again. She was in one of her vulnerable moods. He'd learned from experience that by morning she'd be back to her normal, cheerful self, but for now she wouldn't want to do anything except snuggle. She became this way when she'd had a bad day or was worried. She was taking a chance, opening herself up to him and risking being hurt, but she was worrying over nothing. He wouldn't hurt her.

"It's going to be okay. If it doesn't work out, we can go back to how it is now, right?"

She nodded. "I know. I'm just... I don't know."

He pulled her in and held her snuggly while softly stroking her hair until she began to squirm out of his embrace. "We okay?"

She smiled up at him. "Yeah." She heaved a sigh, trying to rally herself.

"How about we watch that movie you picked out... what was the name of it? Night Souls?"

"Our Souls at Night," she corrected.

"Yeah, that one." It was a newer movie, one she hadn't seen, and the movie's description of two lonely people making a connection seemed fitting. "We'll watch that, and when it's over, I'll take you to bed and hold you for as long as you want. How's that sound?"

She nodded, smiled, and looked like she might cry, all at the same time. "That sounds perfect."

Yes, it does, he said to himself.

Tuesday morning Sean settled behind his desk. St. Petersburg was seven hours ahead, so he was going to call Lobachevsky first thing. He dialed the international number listed on the bill of sale and listened to the ring.

"Это Николай Лобачевский. Могу я вам помочь?"

Sean had no idea what was just said. "This is Sean McGhee, calling from the United States. Is this Nikolai Lobachevsky?" he asked. If the man didn't speak English, this was going to be a very short conversation.

"Yes, this is Nikolai Lobachevsky," the man said in passible English.

Sean blew out a puff of breath in relief. "Mr. Lobachevsky, my name is Sean McGhee. I'm a police officer in North Carolina. I'd like to speak to you about some cars you've recently imported."