“For once I won’t argue,” I say, shifting back to why we’re here tonight. “Find Jamie and call me. I told North I need his or her full name and address tonight.” I turn to depart, but hesitate, twisting back to face him long enough to add, “Be careful with North and Danica Day. I don’t trust either one of them.” And then I’m moving down the stairs before he can turn that into some kind of debate I might enjoy another day and time.

“You don’t trust anyone,” he calls out, and I cup my hand behind me and shoot him a finger. He knows that’s not true. I trust him. Mostly. And I trust Kane.

Once I’m in the Mercedes, I crank the air and shrug out of my wet coat. Something is bothering me beyond the obvious and I just sit there—processing information. Andrew’s suggestion that Pocher is going to start killing off innocent women to get to me is unpalatable. The very idea cuts and the only good part of that sensation is that I’m reminded that I am human, that I do care about the people who’d died and need my help to find justice. That is who I am. That is why I do this job. I was wrong earlier. I’m still human. I’m still me.

And I was right when I said nothing about what Pocher does is simple. He’s also not stupid. To kill just to kill would be a path to doom. No. He’d have a reason to kill that woman. Maybe a reason he doesn’t want me to see. I can’t focus on Pocher. I have to focus on solving the crime. I grab my badge and pull the photo of Kane and I out that I keep there. I turn it over and look at the matchbox marks I’ve marked there, every person I’ve saved, or found justice for, to repent for those I’ve killed. No, those I’ve been forced to kill. And I focus on one thing. My goal has to be another mark for Emma. I need, and I will, deliver justice for her murder.

That’s what comes next.