In the twilight, under the shine of street lamps, she looked beautiful, more beautiful than I had ever seen her. The tight black costume and black makeup contrasted sharply with the wings that floated behind her, transparent, ethereal. Her black hair spilled; her high cheekbones angled up with the wings.

“Is it crooked?” she said. “You’re frowning.”

“It’s fantastic,” I said, unexpectedly breathless. Yegina’s costume wasn’t just a disguise; it was an oracle. And it was predicting that Yegina would rise, she’d fly, but she’d stay herself, too. “You look amazing.”

You’re going to work for a major new museum, I thought. You’re going to marry Hiro. You’re going to have kids in a few years, and Hiro will cut back on his career so yours can flourish. You’ll become another wonder of this city, the daughter of an immigrant fleeing war, reshaping your America. You might even finally start listening to decent music.

“Thank you,” Yegina said, then added with a kind tone, “You sure you want to wear that cape? You could just go in the wig.”

My phone rang. It was Alicia Ruiz.

I held up a hand and turned from my friend. “Hello, Detective,” I said cautiously.

“Sorry to bother you,” she said. “I was wondering if you’d heard from Ray.”

“Not since last night,” I said, my mouth going dry. “He was flying home.”

“What time did you see him last?”

“Around ten. Is he not in North Carolina?”

“He told his family—and me—that he was taking a midnight red-eye last night. He never showed up.”

“Maybe he had to do stand-by?”

“Without his suitcase or wallet? I checked his apartment. I need to reach him. This afternoon, Erik Reidl confessed to his involvement in the death of Brenae Brasil.”

“What?”

Yegina saw my face and gave me a questioning look. I touched her arm and took a few steps away, cupping my ear.

“My reaction, too,” said Alicia. “Apparently he described the scene pretty accurately. He said Brenae opened the safe where she kept her gun and asked him to take the weapon. Away from her. He refused. Then he panicked and left.”

“So he didn’t shoot her.”

“He claims he ‘murdered’ her by pressuring her. He’s full of himself. Anyway—” She stopped short, as if remembering our roles. “I wanted to get Ray’s interviews with Erik to the LASD to catch any discrepancies. Tell me if you hear from him.”

“Wait,” I said, sensing Alicia was about to hang up. “Did you contact Janis?”

“She hasn’t heard from him, either.”

I swallowed. If Ray hadn’t contacted me, it meant he was distancing himself. But if he hadn’t contacted either of them, it meant something was wrong.

“What did Ray tell you about Nelson de Wilde?” I said.

“Why?” she said after a beat.