The five o’clock newscast music kicked in and the male anchor’s customary light delivery droned the standard welcoming spiel she’d done herself in one form or fashion. His female counterpart was a whole lot more no-nonsense when she spoke, cutting right to the chase.

In breaking news, a kidnapping and ransom attempt involving the wife and child of local businessman and philanthropist Sergei Petrovyh, was foiled tonight by local authorities. Live on the scene at Bucktown Harbor with all the latest is Lizbet Montlake.

Cassie spun and slid back into her spot next to Frieda who’d already upped the volume and was leaning in with both elbows on her knees.

Behind Lizbet, the east horizon was already darkening to an early evening shade of blue, but the setting sun shimmered off the harbor waters. Her scarlet dress suit was still as immaculate as it’d been earlier, and not a single hair was out of place even with the heat, but there was obvious fatigue on her face.

“Earlier this afternoon, local authorities received information indicating that one of New Orleans’s most sought-after costume designers was suspected of abducting Evette Petrovyh and her minor son. Using GPS tracking, police tracked and apprehended Via Ricci at Bucktown Harbor just before she managed to smuggle her victims onto a private yacht kept at Bucktown’s marina.

“Upon further search of the yacht, investigators found a drafted email on Ricci’s computer addressed to Sergei Petrovyh, demanding ten million dollars in exchange for his wife and child’s safe return. Authorities also arrested the man hired to pilot the boat who later advised authorities of Ricci’s plan to sail to the southernmost Texas border and pass into Mexico.

“I spoke to the lead investigator in the case just after Ricci and her pilot were apprehended and questioned, and here’s what he had to say.”

The live scene cut to a bold afternoon sky and a swarm of police cruisers and ambulances crowding the edge of the parking lot closest to the marina.

Before Lizbet could ask the officer her first question, movement through the living room window caught her eye. Guards hustled toward the driveway and a second later, the throaty hum of more than one car rose above Lizbet’s handoff back to the station.

Cassie abandoned Lizbet’s segment and beelined it for the door. “They’re home.”

By the time she made it outside, a small crew was already gathered. Four guards from the main house surrounding Sergei’s BMW. Abel, Patrick and Sam approaching Kir and Roman as they alighted from his Audi behind the BMW. Olga pushing her way through all the men and, of course, Evette and Emerson at the middle of it all. Sergei stood between Evette and Emerson, his hands planted on each of their shoulders as though he didn’t dare risk letting either of them go.

Cassie hesitated just beyond the threshold, an awkwardness she couldn’t quite name holding her feet in place.

Frieda paused just two steps ahead of her and looked back. “Cassie, baby. What’s wrong?”