As he stabbed a bite of chicken, he glanced at his phone on the counter.

The message light was on.

He pulled out the power cord as he chewed and scanned the screen.

There was also a new text.

It figured.

The cell had been glued to his hip all day, but of course two people would try to contact him during the ten minutes he was unavailable.

If this was any indication of the volume of activity to come in the hours ahead, it would be prudent to throw an energy bar or two into his car to supplement this barely adequate dinner.

He speared another morsel of chicken and played back the voicemail, left at four-thirty.

The instant Will Fischer identified himself, he stopped chewing—and by the time the man got to the part about Cate leaving in a cab with Kayla, Zeke had lost his appetite.

This whole setup felt off.

Way off.

He jotted down the name of the cab company and the two digits from the license, shoved the nuked dinner aside, and moved on to the new text message.

It had come in at four twenty-five—and it was from Cate.

Going w/Kayla 2 Starbucks 2 meet mystery man who knows something about Steph. Reason she was upset the other day. Will try 2 get an ID. My people in loop. Stay tuned.

He closed his eyes.

If her roommate’s male friend had a connection to Stephanie’s death and/or the DEA investigation, they could both be walking straight into danger.

This was very bad news.

The wiser plan would have been to have DEA agents—or County detectives—tail the cab and get photos of this guy . . . if they could have lined that up fast enough.

A long shot.

But that wouldn’t deter Cate from going it alone. Not if she was convinced she was onto a hot lead that would evaporate if she didn’t pursue it.

He punched in her number.

After five rings, the call rolled to voicemail.

He muttered a word that wasn’t pretty.

She was either ignoring her calls or wasn’t in a position to talk.

At least she’d alerted her people to her plan—and knowing County, they were on this.

They better be.

Because much as he wished he could direct his efforts to locating Cate and verifying she was safe, it was all hands on deck for the DEA sweep.

But he did have the partial license. That was a solid lead. They ought to be able to identify the cab without too much delay and determine which Starbucks had been the destination.

If Kayla and Cate weren’t there, however, the tracking process could slow—or stall. It all depended on whether anyone had noticed either of them.

He tapped in the office number to get someone on the cab ID ASAP.