It took forty-five minutes to get there through pretty thick woods and brush. After the first mile or so, we switched to night vision only, those with goggles leading those without.

All conversation dropped off at that point, except for the occasional radio exchange between Mahoney and the SWAT commander.

The main house came up quickly over a steep rise, all three stories of it. We hung just out of sight, about seventy-five yards off the front. Ned sent SWAT out to do a quick three sixty, and I borrowed a pair of binoculars for a better look while we waited for the action to start.

It was a really large limestone mansion; there’s no other word for it. And the driveway was a virtual car show tonight—Mercedes, Rolls, Bentley, even a vintage Lamborghini and a red Ferrari.

Tall mullioned windows ran along the first floor, which was well lit inside, but there were no people that I could see. Presumably, the action was taking place upstairs, where all the windows were dark or at least shaded.

Was this where Caroline had been killed? The thought came over me like a shroud. Was it also where her body had been so horribly desecrated? For that matter, were we about to crack open somebody’s butcher shop or just a rich man’s playground? It was a strange feeling to have no idea what to expect.

Word finally came back to Mahoney. I couldn’t hear anything from his headset, but it looked like the main event was about to happen. He radioed a standby to the other units, which had spread out around the property, and then gave me that gallows humor grin of his.

“You ready for Coitus Interruptus?”

“As I’ll ever be,” I said.

“Here we go, then. Should be a gas.” He went back to his headset and counted off. “All units, on the ready. Don’t hurt anybody; don’t get hurt.”

A few seconds later, SWAT was out of the woods with the rest of us just behind, sprinting toward the impressive house of ill repute.

Chapter 45

AN EXPENSIVE-LOOKING WALNUT front door splintered and then gave way. SWAT was inside with no difficulty. I had my Glock out, hoping I wouldn’t have to use it. The last time Ned and I had worked together, we’d both been shot.

Not this time, I hoped. This was white-collar crime, wasn’t it? As soon as we got the “all clear” from SWAT, Ned left two men at the door, then led everyone else inside.

My first impression was just, well, money.

The foyer was three stories high, with a checkerboard marble floor and huge chandeliers dangling like outrageous jewels overhead. The furniture was gleaming antiques, and there was something odd about the light. It looked like gold in here.

The second impression I got was of stunningly beautiful women—a lot of them—some in evening gowns, others in various stages of undress. Three were naked and not being very shy about it, hands on their hips like we’d just busted into an apartment they all shared.