He pushed a button on his desk. An adjoining door opened and Troy walked in. He smiled when he saw me.

“Hey, Lucas.”

My father cleared his throat.

Troy bowed his head, mock-obeisant. “Mr. Cortez, I mean.”

A sigh from my father. “Was Juan Ortega at work today?”

As my father’s primary bodyguard, Troy would be apprised of all irregularities involving security, including absenteeism. For a division head like Ortega, he’d know whether he was absent without checking his daily log.

“No, sir. He called in sick this morning.”

“Could you follow up on that, please?”

A nod as he stepped back into his office.

“Troy? One moment please.” I turned to my father. “I’d like to follow up myself, with a personal visit.”

“Of course. Find the address, please, Troy. We’ll be leaving within the hour.”

“One more thing.” I plucked the second man’s photo from the stack and held it up, showing it only to Troy. “Is this Andrew Mullins?”

“Yep. Second-level officer, works under Ortega.” He paused, then pulled out his PalmPilot and checked. “Also off today. Seems we have an epidemic.”

I thanked Troy. My father waited until he was gone, then said, “I presume your visit has something to do with this epidemic?”

I placed the photograph of Ortega on his desk. “This was taken at 11:21 this morning, at the Easy Rider. Ortega told Guy Benoit’s second-in-command that he was there to deliver a message from you, then he shot her in the head and left this photo—” I turned to the one of the young men, “—next to her body with the words ‘more to come’ written on the back.”

I resisted the urge to study his reaction. Shock and consternation were expressions my father had mastered decades ago, along with the ability to mask those reactions. After a moment, he shook his head.

“Whoever brought this to you is lying, Lucas. They have a vendetta against me or the Cabal, or they have chosen to blame an easy target.”

“Hope Adams brought it to me. She was outside the room when Bianca was killed. She saw it in a vision, then saw Ortega himself come out of the room, carrying the murder weapon. He and Mullins chased her before Karl’s arrival apparently made them decide she was a problem they could deal with later. We have the security photographs, and two eyewitness accounts. That hardly seems like a fabrication designed to frame the Cabal and tarnish your reputation.”

“Lucas, I did not—”

“This first picture, if you’re interested, is of two members of the gang, who have been missing since last night. Earlier this month, after a lucrative heist, these same young men were beaten and robbed by a man matching Ortega’s description, again bearing a warning from the Cortez Cabal.”

“I did not kill this girl or kidnap these boys—”