“Now check this.” Tate tapped the keyboard, and a new camera angle popped up. This camera showed the interior of the store from a ceiling-mounted view behind the cash register. Two customers were in line to pay—both heavyset men with beards. Brandon spotted the baseball cap figure at the ATM at the back of the store.

The hair on the back of Brandon’s neck stood up.

“Watch,” Tate said.

It was definitely a woman. Brandon could tell by the way she tapped in the PIN. Brandon shot a look at Antonio, who was frowning at the screen now.

Antonio leaned forward. “Is that—”

“Vanessa.” Brandon looked at Tate. “When was this?”

Tate looked up. “It’s Vanessa Adams? You’re sure?”

“Yes. When was this filmed?”

“Two days ago in San Marcos,” Tate said, zooming in on the figure. He looked at Brandon. “This doesn’t look like her at all, though. You sure it’s her and not someone who stole her ATM card?”

Brandon gritted his teeth as he watched the woman exit the store. “She cut her hair and dyed it, but that’s her.” He looked at Antonio, who was gripping the top of his head with both hands.

“Holy fuck.” He looked at Brandon. “What’s she doing at some gas station in San Marcos?”

“Getting money,” Brandon said. “Whose account is she tapping?”

“Hers,” Harper said. “That’s how we got this. We put a flag on her accounts, and this hit came in, and I followed up with a cop I know down there to get us the video footage.”

“Is that really Vanessa?” Antonio asked. “I just told Kate—shit.”

“It’s her.” Brandon looked at him. “I’m sure of it.”

*   *   *

Leigh looped her grocery bags over her arms and closed the car door with her hip. She glanced up and down the block, on the lookout for anyone suspicious, as she made her way to her door. After letting herself into the house, she dropped her bags on the kitchen counter and hurried back to lock the door and reset the alarm.

Home at last.

After a long and frustrating day, her headache was back—no surprise—and she was in for a late night of work. What she really wanted to do was soak in a hot bath and go to bed, but after her distraction-packed weekend, that definitely wasn’t happening.

Leigh kicked off her heels and unpacked the groceries. Then she filled a kettle with water, hoping a steaming cup of tea would take the edge off her headache and settle her nerves. She switched the stove to high and leaned back against the counter, rubbing her temples as she waited for the water to heat.

Vanessa was ghosting her. Again. She was now officially in the lead for Leigh’s biggest pain-in-the-ass client of all time.