“What the hell is it?” asked Nichelle.
“Data. Lots of it,” said Marco. He was her go-to whenever she had a technical question on a story. His expression read ‘stumped’.
When she had checked the post office box she had found a lot of junk mail and a USB drive. “What kind of data? Financials? Kiddie porn?”
Marco rolled his eyes. “Neither. It looks like timestamps and positioning data.”
“What? His GPS?”
“Maybe. I’m not sure.”
“Well, find out.” She pulled a tight roll of cash out of her purse and handed it to him. “And don’t tell anyone anything.”
I.E. 
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