I remember Billy telling me something similar about Emily. How she convinced all of them to invest in that socially progressive café on Freret Street—the place that gave Farzat his first job in America and helped him resettle here.

Emily. Oh, my God.

Is she the Needham I should have been focusing on this whole time?

But then why would she have given me total access to her family company’s finances? And why would she admit the FBI was trying to get a warrant for them?

Unless … it was all misdirection? My mind reels at the possibility.

Unless she wanted me to link David with Farzat to take the heat off of herself.

Unless she’s been hiding right in front of me this whole time.

“When did you last talk to her?” I ask, tightening my grip on Needham’s collar. “Where the hell is she now? Tell me!”

“When did I talk to whom?” he says, eyes wide, his upper lip covered with blood from his broken nose.

“Emily, damnit! Your cousin who tricked you into funding terrorists!”

Needham crinkles his bloodied face.

“We had dinner a few nights ago. She’s in the city for Mardi Gras. But it was Billy who told me about Crescent Care. He and I … we haven’t spoken in months.”

CHAPTER 76

Billy. Billy.

The name rings inside my head like a death knell.

I try to think back to the first time I sat down with him. He was so friendly that night. Maybe too friendly. The lavish comped meal, the bottomless wine. He was so helpful, too. So honest.

Was it all a ploy?

He was quick to confirm rumors of discord within his family’s empire—then even quicker to direct my attention to David, who he said was dangerous and unhinged.

He was the first one to get me curious about the Needhams’ finances—by saying how juicy they were. If he’d misled David into giving money to an extremist group, he’d know I would eventually discover that—and his cousin would look even guiltier.

He even admitted to having a personal connection to Farzat—as an investor in the café where he worked!

Billy. Billy. It’s all starting to make sense.

I bark at Needham, “Don’t go anywhere!” as I let go of his shirt and slip my handgun back into my jeans.

Then I grope my pockets, looking for the business card Billy gave me. The one with his number scrawled on the back.

I find it, still in my pocket from last night. I take out my phone and frantically dial.

“Who are you calling?” David asks with dread. “What’s going on? Do you think my cousin could be—”

“Shut up!” I snap, and cup my free hand over my exposed ear.