Chapter Fourteen
I returned to my home office and logged into one of my databases. A quick search on the license plate number revealed the SUV’s owner was a guy named Brian Weis. According to the file, Weis lived in Baltimore, mere blocks from MICA. I jotted down the address and added another name to my diagram. The nature of his connection remained to be seen.
When I arrived in Weis’ neighborhood, I deliberately drove past the street he lived on. For one thing, the curb was jammed with cars. For another, I wanted to remain inconspicuous. If Weis had cut my brake line, parking too close to his residence would be asking for trouble.
The neighborhood was typical West Baltimore. Rowhouses of stone or brick, with marble steps at the entrances, some with rounded Victorian facades that gave t
