“Lucas?” Paige nodded to the young woman on the bed and I realized, with no small amount of regret, that I’d forgotten all about her.

“Untie him, please,” I said.

“Taking your sweet fucking time, aren’t you? You like seeing me tied up?”

I was inclined to say I wasn’t the one who liked seeing people bound and helpless. “No, Carlos, surprisingly, I have other concerns on my mind. Our father has charged me with seeing you safely delivered into protective custody. If I need to do so with you bound hand and foot, so be it. Before you go, though, I should ask what happened here.”

“You think?”

We locked gazes.

“They came after me too,” he said finally.

“Who?”

“Well, duh. Obviously the same people who killed William and Hector.”

“You think?” Paige murmured, too low for anyone but me to hear.

“And the young woman. Is this your handiwork?”

I waited for him to object, outraged, but Carlos gave me one last unreadable look, then turned to Griffin.

“Home, Jeeves.”

“Did they kill her to find you?” I asked.

“I gave you an order, Sorenson. Take me to my father.”

“Did you see or hear what happened?”

He turned to me. “You’re the detective, little bro. Detect.”

CARLOS’S SURPRISE AT hearing of Hector and William’s deaths seemed genuine, but he’d shut down when I’d hinted he might have played even a corollary role in tonight’s events. In my experience, the innocent either proclaim their innocence or are too shocked by the allegation to intelligently respond. Carlos had done the Cabal equivalent of lawyering up—take me to my father.

I spent the next thirty minutes examining the crime scenes—the alley, the bedroom and the sniper’s roost on a building a block over—and overseeing the technicians’ work. They needed little guidance, but they indulged me, knowing I wouldn’t contaminate evidence.

I focused on the young man. Identifying him and his role would help me understand what had taken place here.

He had no identification. He wore a cargo vest and pants, both with many pockets. When they were emptied, we had two cell phones, two radios, a handheld computer and two devices we couldn’t recognize. The extra radios and cell phones seemed to be backups.

Paige took the handheld computer. “It’s a homemade job. GPS maybe? Probably more. It’s password protected and something tells me if he knows how to build it, he knows how to protect it. If I start trying to crack the password…”

“It could trigger a program to erase the contents.”

“If I can use the lab at the offices, I can do more.”

She checked one cell phone as I examined the other. All incoming and outgoing call records had been deleted. Both contained identical lists of eight contacts by initials only.

“GB,” Paige said. “The gang leader is Guy Benoit, isn’t it?”

I nodded.