“Son of a bitch,” he muttered.

“Did you say something?” Phil sat up and so did Makita. Phil had been sleeping on the couch along the far wall since shortly after he came in to get the searchers started again today. Like Amarok, he was exhausted, but he wanted to be on hand to deal with the usual, like the poachers he’d intercepted last night, so that Amarok could focus strictly on finding Evelyn.

“It’s nothing,” Amarok said. “I’m sorry.” He’d been making calls right and left, trying to track down the widow of the murdered janitor—no luck there so far—as well as trace the number he’d discovered on that second sheet of paper in the conference room of HH. None of it had disturbed Phil, so he wasn’t thinking that a few words would suddenly jolt him out of his nap. “Go back to sleep.”

Phil got up and walked over. “It’s fine. I’ve got enough shut-eye for now. What is it? What have you found?”

“I know how Bishop got to Evelyn so cleanly and easily, without anyone being aware that something was up and without her feeling even a hint of suspicion or concern.”

“How? It’s not easy to pull one over on Evelyn! She was about the only person who didn’t believe Bishop was innocent back when all of that came out about the evidence used to convict him. She trusted the detective who planted those panties, remember? Everyone was saying he did it for the sake of his career, to solve a high-profile case and move up the ranks, but she was convinced he’d done it to get Bishop off the streets, because he was dangerous.”

“I remember.” Amarok had been hoping she’d play along, for a change. They were going to release Bishop regardless of her opinion. He hadn’t wanted her to risk her career, but as with everything else she felt passionately about, she hadn’t been willing to back off.

“So what is it? What have you found?” Phil asked.

Amarok held up the paper he’d carefully removed from the message pad at HH. “He must’ve had someone call her, posing as my mother.”

Phil blinked at what he was being shown. “Your mother?”

“Yeah.”

“But … you don’t have any contact with Alistair. Or has that changed?”

“It hasn’t changed. But I’m getting married, and it’d be entirely believable to Evelyn that my mother would want to be a part of it all—that she would use the wedding as an excuse to try to put the past behind us.”

Understanding began to dawn. “Got it. And Evelyn wouldn’t recognize your mother’s voice because she’s had so little contact with her.”

“I don’t want my mother in my life. She hasn’t had any contact with her.”

“So Evelyn gets a call from someone claiming she’s your mother and asking to talk.”

“Yes. At which point she arranges a meeting at the house, early in the afternoon when she knows I won’t be home.”