She gave a throaty laugh. “Is he giving you a hard time? Ignore him. He’s a good guy. He just takes the whole bodyguard image very seriously. Not like…” A slight catch in her breathing.

“How’s Troy?” I asked.

“He’s in surgery now.”

That’s all she said. I guess it was all there was to say—that he’d survived long enough to get onto the operating table and we just had to wait and see what would happen there.

I could hear voices in the background. It sounded like an argument. Had they run into trouble?

“Anyway, I wasn’t calling to pester you about your progress. I just wanted to say…be careful.”

“Okay…”

“We just got to Hector’s house. He’s here in the study apparently, and has been all evening. Carlos was here an hour ago. So that’s two pretty much accounted for.”

I caught her meaning, one she probably didn’t dare voice with others around. If Benicio’s attacker had gone after one of the sons following his failure at the house, it would be William. If that attacker had managed to get into Cabal headquarters, he could be here now.

“Just be careful,” she said. “Let Griffin take the lead. He’s the professional.”

GRIFFIN LED US past the young man at the front desk.

“Shouldn’t we speak to him?” I said as we headed for the elevator. “He might know if William left yet.”

Griffin grunted and kept walking, so I stopped. Karl did the same. Griffin reached the elevators, saw that we’d left him and strode back, passing us and walking to the desk.

“Mr. Cortez would like you to answer these people’s questions.”

The receptionist/guard gave him a discreet questioning look. Griffin’s chin dipped a quarter-inch. In this business “tell these people what they want to know” could easily mean “tell them what they’re allowed to know.”

“Is William Cortez still in his office?” I asked.

“I believe so.” He dropped his gaze to a display just below the desktop and tapped the screen. “His car is still in the garage, and I haven’t seen him leave.” Another tap. “Nor has he used his code on any of the other exit doors.”

“When’s the last time anyone saw him?”

I expected him to say, “How should I know?” but the guard tapped the screen a few more times. “He requested dinner at seven-thirty, and it was taken to his office at eight. He asked for coffee at nine.”

“Has he had any visitors?”

“None that came through me, miss, and I’ve been on since seven.”

We headed to the same elevator we’d been taken up in yesterday. As we waited, Griffin glanced over at Karl, eyes narrowing.

“Is that Mr. Cortez’s shirt?”

Karl stretched his arms, the sleeves riding up past his wrists. “A poor fit, but the fabric and tailoring are superb.”