“Really, it’s fine. I’ll call back tomorrow.” I hang up. It’s not even dinnertime, and Leo is drunk. I call Simone for advice on an intervention. She doesn’t answer. The sultry message comes on again. I try Brazuca, because at one point he was my sponsor. He was never great on the advice front, but I don’t know what else to do.

“I was just going to call you,” he says. “Can we meet?”

I give him the address to Leo’s apartment.

“I’ll be there in an hour. Any more tails?”

“Not since that day we went to find Nolan.”

When he hangs up, I feel an unexpected sense of relief.

After I feed Whisper, I heat up some Chinese food from the fridge. Brazuca arrives just in time to eat half of it, go figure.

“What did you want to meet about?” I ask, not yet ready to talk about Leo. We’re sitting at the kitchen table, drinking a kind of herbal tea that I found in Leo’s cupboard. I don’t for a moment let this scene of cozy domesticity get to me. I’m watching for signs of a meltdown, but Brazuca’s hands are steady. He’s wielding his chopsticks, if not with precision, with a certain amount of capability.

His expression, however, is guarded.

“I may know someone else who might be able to help us find Dao. He has more resources and, frankly, more time on his hands. I went to see him today and he seemed open to helping, but I don’t trust him.”

He is hiding something.

“Who is it?”

“A former client. I can’t give you a name right now.” This, at least, is the truth. He’s letting me know up front that he’s hiding something. I can respect that, so I give him the update on Nolan and share my suspicions that he might want to join the team.

“Shit,” he says. “The last thing we need is some guy who doesn’t know what he’s doing muddying the water. You think he’s going to be a problem?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I have to get to Vidal first at that event, before he has a chance to scare him off.”

“When are you going?”

“Nine p.m.”

He nods. “Okay, I’ll see you there.” He’s got something else to say, but he can’t quite get through it. Whisper allows him to pat her head, perhaps also sensing that he’s stalling. I hope he’s not interested in a good-bye hug. I can’t help but think about the night we’d spent together and immediately try to focus on something else.

The air between us becomes thick with the memories of things better left unsaid.

He clears his throat.

I open the door.

We are careful to step around each other.

“See you tomorrow,” he says.