It was the one thing Micah couldn’t figure out, unless the man was simply escalating, which was certainly possible. Judging by the way the man clucked at him, however, that wasn’t the case. “Don’t act innocent. I saw you out on the streets, months ago, practically begging for attention from men, wearing women’s clothes. You ended up getting in a fancy car with some man in a suit.”

It didn’t take a genius to put “fancy car” and “man in a suit” together and come up with Damon.

With a jolt, Micah realized Ren had to be talking about one of the times he’d gone undercover. Micah’s mouth felt dry in his shock, but he forced himself to lick his lips and get past it because maybe, just maybe, he could use this.

“Listen, Ren, there’s been a mistake. I’m not a hooker.”

Ren scowled. “Did you not hear me? I saw you.”

“I’m a cop!” Micah blurted, so loudly that Ren actually jumped back in surprise. “I work for the NYPD. The night you saw me, I was undercover, pretending to be a prostitute in an effort to…” Micah paused, dry swallowing, “…to bait the serial killer we were searching for, the Hooker Hunter… you.”

“No,” Ren snapped. “I don’t believe you. You’re lying.”

“What day is it?” Micah asked.

Ren eyed him warily, like he was debating if Micah could use the information against him in anyway before reluctantly answering. “It’s Monday night.”

“So I’ve been missing for about 24 hours. I missed work this morning. I’m not like those other people you took. My dad is a police captain. Odds are, the whole precinct is already out looking for me, and they won’t stop until they find me – find you.”

Ren shook his head in denial, but there was a nervous glint in his eye that hadn’t been there before.

“Look it up if you don’t believe me. My name is Micah Hart. Please, you’ve made a mistake.”

“No!” It was the first time Micah had heard the man raise his voice since he’d taken him, but instead of being scared, Micah was satisfied to have finally prompted a genuine reaction. (A reaction that didn’t include him suffering bodily harm.) “No. Even if you are a cop, I saw the way you acted at that club-”

“You came onto me!”

“Not the bar,” Ren snapped, “the club, that new one in Queens – Club Trinity. You were letting strangers buy you drinks and lick your neck-”

Micah felt himself stiffen at the mention of Club Trinity because suddenly he knew exactly where he had seen Ren before. He knew he’d looked familiar when he’d approached him at Artie’s Pub. “You tried to buy me a drink.”