Sam squeezed her detective’s arm. “Sure thing.” Back in the pit, Sam turned to Jeannie and her partner, Will Tyrone. “We’re heading to the W Hotel, Fifteenth Street entrance. I expect there to be a couple of muscular goons outside the ballroom, twins named Boris and Horace, of all things. Their job is to protect Elle Jestings. Your job is to arrest them for the murder of Willie Vasquez. I want you to call patrol on the way and get them over there to back you up. I don’t expect the goons to go quietly. I want them transported and held separately. They’re not to have any time alone together.”

“We’re on it,” Jeannie said, her eyes alight with the fiery passion that made her one of Sam’s best detectives. “Meet you there.”

* * *

On the way to the W, Sam contacted Charity Miller and laid out what they had on Elle.

“And you don’t think the husband had anything to do with it?”

“No, only her and the bodyguards, one of whom killed Willie, but they were both there, and they both tossed him in the Dumpster. We’ve got that on film, and we can prove she paid them ten thousand dollars each to do her dirty work for her. Willie had ruined everything for her. She couldn’t let him get away with that.”

“It’s a stretch without DNA and lab results,” Charity said.

“I know, and that’s why I’m going to get the three of them to roll on each other and make the DNA connection after the fact.”

“What’s the plan?”

Sam laid it out for her, step-by-step, and then waited to hear what Charity thought.

“Pick them up.”

“On our way.”

“You were pretty sure I’d go along with this,” Charity said.

Sam could hear the smile in the prosecutor’s voice. “I’m confident that I’ve got the right perps on the hook. I’ll keep you posted.”

“You could talk a dog off a meat wagon,” Hill said after she hung up.

“Um, thank you. I think.” Sam fiddled with her phone and placed a call to Darren Tabor.

“What’s up, Lieutenant?”

“I’m about to arrest Elle Jestings and her bodyguards for the murder of Willie Vasquez. She did Lind on her own.”

“Are you kidding me? Elle Jestings, the publisher of my paper, is being arrested for murder?”

“In about five minutes at the W.”

“Holy shit.”

“If you want to see her being marched into HQ, have a photog outside in about thirty minutes.”

“Thanks for the tip, Sam.”

“A promise is a promise. See you later.” She closed the phone and pressed the accelerator, anxious to get this one closed.

“What’s our plan at the W?” Hill asked.

“Are you willing to distract Ray so I can take care of her?”

“I can do that.”

“Are you sure?”

“I said I’d do it.”