One of the front windows spiderwebbed. Intellectually, Sebastian knew the round couldn’t penetrate the bulletproof glass, but his nervous system overrode his brain, and he hit the floor. He dropped the phone and it skittered across the hardwood, his blood pounding in his ears as the adrenaline surged through his system and told him to run and seek cover. Sebastian knew the son of a bitch was laughing even before he heard it echoing from the phone’s tiny speaker.

“I’m going to pick them off one by one,” Paul said. “Ron. His people. That bitch you’ve got sleeping in what used to be my bedroom. I know where everyone lives, what kind of car they drive, their wives and kids . . . I know everything, Sebastian, and I’m going to pick them all off one by one, destroy everyone and everything you love, and there’s not a goddamn thing you can do to stop it.”

Sebastian grabbed the phone.

Click.

Paul was gone.

CHAPTER 40

ELLIE CAME AWAKE to her phone ringing. The room was dark except for the alarm clock, with its bright green numbers. Four forty-six a.m.

Where was she? Right, the hotel room. Max was sleeping beside her.

Sebastian was calling her. She scooped up the phone and hurried off to the bathroom.

“I need you to come to the house,” Sebastian said as she eased the door shut.

“Of course.” Ellie heard the tightness in his voice. “Is everything okay?”

“There’s been a development, and I need your help.”

“Paul?”

“Just get to the house,” Sebastian said, and hung up.

She’d had a good amount of alcohol last night and had less than six hours of sleep, but she didn’t feel hungover or the slightest bit tired. Another benefit, she figured, of Pandora.

As she showered, she kept thinking about the photo of her twin brother. Ron Wolff had circulated it around Las Vegas and found nothing, but that didn’t mean he would stop digging. The man was a seasoned investigator, and he had all sorts of resources at his disposal—and computer experts. Who knew what they could turn up in some database?

Maybe Ron found something, she thought. Maybe that’s why Sebastian summoned me to his house, to confront me about it.

And then there was Roland Bauer. His entire operation was now riding on an undercover agent who had deliberately withheld information—had lied, essentially. He had the full power of the Federal Bureau of Investigation behind him. Sebastian’s people might not be able to turn anything up, but the FBI would, and then she’d have to come clean about everything. She’d have to admit she had lied about who she was when she applied to the LAPD. That in and of itself was a crime. After this operation was signed, sealed, and delivered and went to trial, Sebastian, who could easily afford to buy his own “dream team” of litigators and legal experts, would find out she had lied to the LAPD, and a judge could summarily dismiss the entire case against him.