MIKE ROMAN CIRCLED the heavy bag, repeating a three-punch combination: two jabs with the left, one cross with the right, then a side step. His punches landed in time with the third song of his workout mix—“You Know You’re Right” by Nirvana. The less-than-current song played through the tiny speakers of his phone. At six AM, no need to piss off the neighbors.

He stepped up his game, changed to a five-punch combo. “Bone Machine” by the Pixies came on. Mike added a little bounce to his hips.

The music cut out and his phone rang.

He grabbed a towel, wiped his forehead, and used his teeth to pull the Velcro of his wrist strap.

He swiped the phone screen. “You’ve got five seconds to explain how you got Caitlin Bergman’s phone, and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll spend that time running from me.”

The voice on the other end either cleared its throat or laughed. In either case, he recognized its hungover timbre. “Down, boy. It is I, mostly.”

Two years ago a call from Caitlin Bergman would have sent Mike on the first train out of town. Now he answered on the first ring, every time.

“Just getting in? You do know it’s six in the morning?”

“Not here,” Caitlin said. “I’m three hours ahead.”

“Still surprised.” Mike pulled his other glove off and leaned against the counter.

Another hungover laugh came from Caitlin’s end of the line. “You free to make a little money, same rates as last time?”

Mike smiled and looked around for a pen. “Who do you need killed?”

Chapter 16

CHAPTER

16

THE HYBRID’S CLOCK read 9:26 AM when Caitlin parked outside Lakshmi’s apartment building, a single-story, six-unit, red-brick building. She ended her call with Mike Roman, then texted him the business address she’d found for Kieran Michelson, not five miles from her own place in Los Angeles. Like herself, Kieran had moved to Hollywood the week after he left IU. Unlike Caitlin, the now twenty-four-year-old had his own business. His relocation must have involved a lot less crying.

Lakshmi came outside, locked the door to her apartment, and waved.

Caitlin lowered the window. “Was I the only one drinking last night?”

The young woman bounced into the passenger seat. “I pounded a coconut water. Want one? I have more inside.”

Caitlin pulled into traffic. “No, I earned this feeling. Remind me how to get to Cedar Creek.”

“Angela’s apartment? Why?”

“You and I are going to recreate the day she disappeared.”

Lakshmi smiled. “Turn north on Jordan.”

Caitlin drove slowly through the campus, stopping more than once for students crossing the street without bothering to look, as if being on campus made them untouchable.

“Do you know the time line, Lakshmi?”

“Of course. Angela woke up that morning and talked to her roommate, but Devon doesn’t live there anymore.”