“I’m listening.”

Her plan would work only if they spoke in person. It was a gamble, what she had in mind. Then again, Faye Simpson was a gambler by nature.

“I want to talk to you in person,” Ellie said. “Where would you like to meet?”

Frank told her to stay put; he’d come pick her up. She gave him the address for the Ritz-Carlton—the hotel, which had the same address as the private residences—and waited for him in the lobby.

An hour later, she saw his Buick pull up to the front of the hotel—the same SUV from the photo hanging on her office wall. She pushed her way through the revolving doors, dressed in the same clothes she had worn yesterday.

Frank got out of the car. He wore a nicely cut blue suit jacket with a crisp, dressy white T-shirt that, along with his sockless loafers and Ray-Ban Wayfarers, gave him a breezy, casual look.

Only there was nothing breezy or casual about him. Frank buttoned his jacket as he opened the door for her, his pale skin almost as white as his tee—Dracula dressed by Christian Dior. She could see his eyes behind his sunglasses, studying and assessing her, probing for weaknesses.

He held the door open for her. Ellie climbed in, waited for Frank to join her. When he did, she took control and spoke first.

“The man in the photograph—he looks different now. Dyed his hair black and grew it out, and he’s also wearing black-framed glasses. But there’s no doubt it’s him. His name is Paul. At least that’s what Anton called him.”

“Anton?”

“He took me to see Paul.”

From the corner of her eye she saw Frank squeeze the steering wheel.

Ellie said, “I thought we were going to lunch. Anton went to a BMW dealership, said he had to pick up a part, and the next thing I knew, we had switched cars. He thought he was being followed. He had me leave my phone behind.”

“And why did Anton bring you along?” Frank’s tone remained flat, the way it always did when he spoke—or at least when he spoke to her.

“He wants me to help him acquire young female carriers. He didn’t say why.”

Next, Ellie mixed facts with what Roland had shared with her last night. “They were discussing the guy you work for, or with—I’m not sure. Sebastian. Are you two partners, or do you work for him?”

“What were Anton and Paul discussing?”

“I hear Sebastian’s offering a sizable reward for anyone with information on his stepson.”

“And where, exactly, did you hear that?”

“From Anton and Paul. It was one of many things they discussed together yesterday. They’re going to make a move against you.”

No reaction from Frank.

“And when, exactly, is this happening?”

“I’ll tell Sebastian,” Ellie said. “Only Sebastian.”

Ellie’s words hung in the air like a bad odor. Frank’s mouth parted slightly. Then he drew in a long, slow breath as his tongue dug into a back molar.