She nodded. “Yes.”

“Could it have been him? Did he take your phone? Did he have access to your phone at all?”

“No,” she said, but then she swallowed back the word as the memory unfolded before her eyes. Clark coughing. Michelle leaving him to get water. Was that enough time? “Well, there was this one time right before we went to Paris,” she said, and explained what happened during Clark’s last session. “But he didn’t take the phone. At the end of the session, it was still there in my drawer where I keep it.”

Jack shook his head, ran a hand through his hair. “He doesn’t have to take it. There’s software that can clone a phone like that,” he said, snapping his fingers. “All he had to do was have access to your phone for a minute, maybe two. Were you gone long enough?”

Down the hallway. Opened the fridge. Didn’t see bottled water. Grabbed a mug. Filled it from the tap. Walked back to the office.

“Yes,” she said as the chill seeped from her bones into her skin.

“He had to have done it. He took your personal phone while you were getting water and dropped an app on it that clones it. I bet that’s what he did. Then, when he was on his computer watching the cloned phone, he was able to steal your password to your email.”

Her brain pounded against her skull. Her mind was swimming, slipping further under water, gulping for air.

“But my personal phone has a screenlock. My work phone does too. How would he have gotten past it that quickly?”

“It’s easy to break screenlocks,” he said, grabbing his own phone, and showing her the screen. She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to be looking for until he tilted it in the light next to her couch. When he had it angled just right, she gasped. The streaks from his fingerprints revealed his own screen lock. “The oils from your fingers. All he had to do was hold it just so to see the pattern you make.”

“But why?” Davis asked, pressing once more. “What does someone have against my sister?”

Something caught her eye on his phone. An incoming email flashed across his notifications, and she swore it was from Michelle with two Ls. Her veins filled with ice. Before he could answer, Michelle pointed to his phone. “You have a new email from me,” she said, in a dead voice.

from: [email protected]

to: [email protected]

date: Oct 1, 6:32 PM

subject: You like it dirty?

Try this for dirty. There’s more with this came from. Back off now or else we’ll really hit below the belt.

Jack turned to Michelle and her brother and gave them the answer. “They have nothing against her. It’s me.”

Her brother was a fighter. He had his fists clenched and was ready to go knock some teeth. Jack understood the impulse. He was ready to go to war for Michelle too. But he knew enough about battle to know this—you don’t go to war without understanding the enemy.