“Leo,” Elena said, her voice tight. “This isn’t accounting software. It knows about the stolen drill from last winter.”

Don Arturo peered at the screen. “Contpaqi? I haven’t heard that name since we switched to cash-only in 2008.”

Her father, Don Arturo, shuffled in with two cups of instant coffee. “No miracles, mija. Just work. My father did it with a pencil. I did it with a calculator. You can do it with… what’s that thing?” He pointed at the laptop.

“A computer that doesn’t have the right software,” she sighed.

“Accounting software?” Elena scoffed. “We don’t have time to learn software.”