Pari drifted into the doorway like the smoke from a burning house. Her dark hair was down, spilling over bare shoulders, and today her bindi was a rich vermilion. She eyed Matty and immediately shifted into professional mode. “Good morning.”

“Hi,” Matty said.

“You’re a client?”

“No,” North said.

“Yes,” Shaw and Matty said.

“Would you like to come with me? I can get you some coffee or tea. Maybe a snack.”

“A snack sounds great,” Shaw said.

Pari ignored him, smiling and taking Matty by the arm. “Can I tell you something? My boyfriend is driving me crazy. He’s cute, but I can’t ever get him to do anything cute with his hair.” She was already walking him out of the office. “I really need you to tell me what you’re doing with yours. Is it product? He can’t stand it when I talk to him about product, but I really think that’s what he needs.”

“About that snack,” Shaw called after her.

Pari flipped him the finger behind her back, still guiding Matty into the outer office.

“Ok, Pari,” Shaw said, trying to project the proper amount of authority. “That’s great. Just get him coffee, will you?”

“I don’t want coffee,” Matty began. “I just want to know if you’re taking the case—”

Shaw pushed the door shut and slumped against it in case Matty—or Pari—had any ideas about coming into the office. He let his chin drop to his chest. For a moment, he was with Carl again, in the alley, with the blood running into his socks, and the pain in his groin like sodium metal about to incandesce, and Carl wasn’t moving, Carl had his head tucked into his shoulder the way he had once when Shaw had caught him napping. The pain that night in the alley had been physical; the pain now was psychological. But it was no less pain. Be here, Shaw told himself. Breathe.

When Shaw brought up his head, North was looking at him.

“Maybe you can’t see him.”

And for a moment, Shaw thought North was talking about dating, like he was prohibiting Shaw from seeing Matty. “What?”

“Maybe it’s a bad angle.”

Shaw shook his head.

“The camera. The blackmail tape. Maybe it’s like that free porn you like to watch, the amateur stuff people upload where they’ve just got the camera on a tripod and all you see is an ass bouncing up and down.”

“I do not watch pornography.”

North’s eyebrow went up.

“That was research.”

“You were researching in your compression shorts. With the lights off. And your hand down—”

“I don’t know why we can’t take this case. He’s being blackmailed, and he’s just a kid. He needs help.”

“You know why we can’t take this.”

“No, I don’t. I’m not saying we should—”

“Matty wants us to steal the recording. Or destroy it. And that means breaking any number of laws—”

“I’m not saying we should do anything illegal—”

“—and even if we did, there’s no guarantee we’d destroy every copy, and that guy might just release it anyway to screw Matty once we think we’re done.”