My phone buzzes and I glance down to accept a secure airdrop from Lucas. Once I have the file, I forward it to Tic Tac and then call him. I don’t bother with hello. I let him say it and then I get to the point. “There should be a list of cellphone numbers in the data I just sent you. Two of those numbers are registered on Banking the Billionaire. I need you to find the IP addresses.”

“Where exactly did the file come from?”

“A friend and he’s good. So good he can probably out hack you.”

“Please,” he chides. “That’s not possible.”

“Prove it. Get me the IP addresses.” I disconnect.

My cellphone rings again and this time it’s Tabitha. I answer hopefully, and most people who know me know hope is not my thing. “Did you find him?”

“No,” she says. “He’s not answering.”

“I hope like hell you did more than call him. I can do that myself.”

“Of course I did more. I called to check on his chopper and they won’t give me any information. I called the New York office and they haven’t seen him.”

“Again, nothing I didn’t know or do myself. Text me your contact to the elite chef service and a phone number.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Aside from the fact that a murder suspect showed up in place of the sous chef?”

“Oh God. Oh shit. Okay. I’m texting it now. What happened? I mean was it—”

I hang up and do what I should have done and would have done already if I was thinking straight. I call Lucas back. He doesn’t answer. “Damn it to hell,” I curse.

I text him: Ping Kane’s phone. It’s an emergency.

That’s when Jay turns onto Naomi’s street and it’s swarming with emergency vehicles.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Naomi lives in the row housing, which dominates this area, with a private gate. The fact that the emergency vehicles are in front of her unit says it all. She’s dead. And while I might be okay with stabbing a monster here or there, I’m not okay with this. I was distracted by the intruder in our own home, and I didn’t have the foresight to see this coming. I had Houston check on her. I didn’t ensure she was protected.

I motion for Jay to pull us as close to the mess of emergency vehicles ahead of us while I shrug out of my coat, pull my field bag cross-body and then slide my badge around my neck. “Stay close,” I say when he halts, opening the door. “And call me if you hear from Kane.”