Free Bad Penny by John D. Brown

was screwing the lid back on, his phone rang. It was Kim.
    He put as much go-lucky-calm-so-good-to-hear-you in his voice that it sounded like he might be in Disneyland. “Miss Black,” he said. “How’s the chief tooth fairy today?” Kim was the top dog dental hygienist at an office in North Hollywood.
    “Fine, Frank,” she said with noise in the background. “I just finished a cleaning; we’re headed to lunch.”
    “Late lunch,” he said.
    “But worth it,” she said. “We’re going to this amazing new bistro. So what’s the emergency? Tony isn’t into any trouble, is he?”
    “Naw,” Frank said. The fact was that Kim didn’t need to know just yet what was going on. She’d stress nigh unto death. She’d call the cops. What mother wouldn’t? But Frank was fairly confident he could wrap this up in the next three or four hours. “There are some guys in the neighborhood who invited him over this evening. I just wanted to keep tabs on him. You said you had this way to track his phone?”
    “Yeah,” she said. “It’s this great little killer app.”
    “How can I get that setup on my phone?”
    “No setup necessary. You just go to a website and use my login and password.”
    “You trust me with the keys to the kingdom?”
    “No, I don’t. But I’m hoping you prove me wrong.”
    “Can I make his phone ring?”
    “Yes.”
    “Can I make the phone take pictures?”
    “No, we didn’t get that. By the way, my phone’s on it too. Don’t get any funny ideas. I don’t need my phone ringing in the middle of a cleaning.”
    “I won’t mess with your phone,” he said. “At least not right off.”
    She groaned. “Why do I always ignore my better judgment?”
    “Let me get myself something to write with,” Frank said. He climbed into the Nova and opened the dash compartment. He fetched out a pen and the envelope with the receipt of his last Big-O Tire purchase in it. He put his phone on speaker. “Okay, I’m ready.”
    Kim gave him the website and login information. Frank told her to hold on as he tested it. He logged into the website, saw a button labeled “Phone,” another labeled “iPad,” and one more that said “Nurse Ratchet.”
    “I’m guessing you’re Nurse Ratchet,” he said.
    “You like that? How about you help him come up with a different nickname? Something like Saint Kim for putting up with both you and him.”
    “I’ll do my best,” Frank said. There were little dots next to each button. The two for the phone and Nurse Ratchet were green. Underneath it said they’d been found. The dot for the iPad was red. Apparently, the app couldn’t find a device that was off, which made sense. He tapped the button for phone. A moment later a Google street map opened on the phone’s screen that showed an area north of Rock Springs. A little round pink push pin said, “Tony’s Phone.” The pin marked a position about fifteen miles north on 191, heading in the direction of Farson.
    Ha! Got you, Ed.
    “Slick,” Frank said.
    “We should actually put you on the account,” she said. “I’ll get that other app for you. It will not only tell me where you are, but will show me what’s on your screen, log your calls. Heck it will even silently take a picture when the phone’s open so you can see who is using it. It’s all very Big Brother.”
    Frank thought about that feature. Recordings of Ed’s face and calls would make a huge splash with the prosecution. “And you didn’t load that on Tony’s phone?”
    “Are you kidding? Spy on Tony? He’d figure it out in a minute and then reroute it so I was always looking at someone on their phone in Bangladesh.”
    “Too bad,” Frank said.
    “You know, I was a bit hesitant to let him go visit. But he says he sure is enjoying himself. Don’t let him down.”
    Yeah, Frank thought. He said, “Kim, you’re talking to Frank version 3.0. I’m not going back. That life is over. I’m the picture of the model citizen.”
    “Hey,”