I pressed the key fob, and Edward slid into the passenger seat of my car and set the heavy laptop across his knees.

“What are you doing?” I asked, getting in behind the wheel.

“County property transfers and corporate filings are public record,” Edward said.

He opened the laptop, connected to his phone’s hotspot, and typed Max’s full legal name into the search box.

The break room at eight in the morning smelled of stale coffee and old microwave popcorn.

Edward stood by the counter while the glass pot hummed on the warming plate behind him.

“Look at this entry,” Edward said, holding his phone screen out toward me.