“I don’t know,” Troy said honestly. “And we can’t ask Detective Stuart, who investigated the case. He’s dead, killed in a home invasion.”

Dani jerked her head up from the printout, her gaze colliding with Diesel’s. “Home invasion,” she repeated quietly. Like the two men involved in Laurel being sold into slavery.

“Why do I get the idea that you two know more than we do?” Troy asked.

Diesel ran both hands over his stubbled skull, winced, then rubbed his palms on his T-shirt like they stung. “Fuck,” he muttered, then looked over his shoulder to make sure that Joshua hadn’t overheard him swear. “You need to check the casino’s server. Now.”

Quincy tilted his head. “I take it you have. What led you there?”

“John Brewer’s financials,” Dani answered. “Brewer transferred the title to the family home, but no money changed hands.”

“LJM Industries bought it,” Quincy murmured. “Troy told me last night, on our way to the casino after it was raided. We were looking for Scott King. Or Cade Kaiser. We didn’t dig deeper, but now that the casino owner is dead, we will. Obviously. Thank you, Diesel.”

Diesel pointed to the paper Dani held. “And we thank your printer. It’s more of the puzzle. Are you going to pick up the roommate for questioning?”

“You bet we are,” Troy said with a scowl.

Diesel rubbed his head again. “Did the roommate mention a man named Anatoly Markov?”

Troy blinked. “Yes, that was the name of Laurel’s boyfriend. The one she supposedly ran away with.”

Dani smoothed her hand up Diesel’s back, standing on her toes to massage his neck, noting his stress. He so wanted to tell them everything, but she knew why he didn’t. It was less a fear of arrest and more a need to provide information in a way that they could legally use.

“I’m betting he’s paying the roommate’s student loan,” Dani offered.

“Will we find his name on the casino’s server?” Quincy asked quietly, saving Diesel from having to decide what to say.

Diesel nodded. “Among others. Like John Brewer.”

“And a guy named Blake Emerson,” Dani said. “Who looks enough like Wesley Masterson, Laurel’s cop brother, to be him.”

Quincy rubbed his temples. “I haven’t gotten enough sleep for this tangle.”

“We need to tell Adam and Deacon,” Dani said. “Now.”

“I’ll call . . .” Troy glanced at his phone. “Speak of the devils. Adam just texted. He’s on his way to pick you up. Command performance for both of you.”

“With whom?” Diesel asked warily.

“Marcus, Scarlett, Deacon, Adam.” Troy pursed his lips. “And Grant Masterson.”

“Now we know where Grant went on his ‘vacation,’” Dani said to Diesel, air-quoting. “I’ll tell the boys that we’re leaving for a bit. You’ll stay with them, Troy?”