Bellsie? Jeff grimaced, then googled Mercy Callahan and groaned again. Shit. There were hundreds of results, the most recent an article about her near abduction from the airport. It also had a video, grainy because it was from the airport security cameras. It showed a zombielike Mercy, being walked toward the door by . . . him. The man he’d seen leaving the dead woman’s New Orleans apartment next door to Mercy’s.

He was not shocked, but he was horrified, even more horrified than he already had been.

She wore a blank expression, like a doll. Even when the big man was struck down by some blond guy’s cane. A cane? Seriously? But Jeff’s disbelief turned into admiration when the blond yanked at the killer’s leg with the cane’s hook after both men crashed to the floor. The blond guy had serious ninja skills with that cane.

He was also in a wheelchair. And looked damned familiar.

Jeff scanned the article and remembered who the blond was. Detective Raphael Sokolov. He’d been involved in taking the serial killer down. And, according to this article from tonight, he’d taken Mercy Callahan to his family’s home on Medallion Avenue in Granite Bay.

At least he knew where she’d be, he thought grimly. At the house on Medallion Avenue surrounded by news vans.

“Okay, we’ll do that,” his mother said after a series of hums, nods, and uh-huhs. “Thank you, Bellsie. And I’d love to go out with you next week. Text me a place and time and I’ll be there.” She ended the call. “He says we need to formally file a cease-and-desist with the website. Once that’s filed, either they have to take it down, or we can report them to the FBI. This is considered ‘revenge porn.’”

“I’m going to report Nolan anyway,” Jeff muttered. “This woman is fragile. Something like this could push anyone over the edge, but . . . Damn, Mom. Did you see her walking through the airport?”

She nodded, her expression pained. “Poor girl. How are you going to make this right to her?”

“I have no idea,” he admitted. “Hey, Mom, how did you even know about this?”

“Your aunt Patricia called. She had an alert set up for anything with your name in it. Trying to be supportive. She called and woke me up. She was screaming. She’ll be glad to know that you didn’t do this. Not voluntarily, anyway.” She patted his arm. “Get on your laptop and issue the takedown order.”

Now? was on the tip of his tongue, but he bit it back. She was right. “Okay. Thanks, Mom.”

She met his eyes soberly. “You’re welcome. Find a better job, Jeffy. There isn’t enough money in the world worth your soul.”

“I will. I promise.” He had to. This was not the way his career was supposed to be. He wanted to help people and only hurt the bad guys. Now I’m a bad guy.

NINE

SACRAMENTO, CALIFORNIA