“King’s taking care of it.”

“Good. Hope it’s witchproof.”

“I didn’t ask. Don’t get mad, but I went to talk to her.”

“What?” Cyrus said it loudly and dared to take his eyes off the road just to give her a furious look.

“Don’t be like that. She’s a person, not some kind of monster.”

“She’s been stalking you, Nora. Stalking. I gotta explain what that is to you?”

“I know what it is. But I just… I just couldn’t believe she was dangerous. I went to her shop to talk it out with her. She’s not going to hurt me. I don’t think she has it in her.”

“Everybody has it in them. Everybody. And if I didn’t believe that before, I sure as hell believe it after spending a week with you.”

She took that as a compliment. It wasn’t one but she took it as one anyway.

“I don’t want you to be my next case,” Cyrus said softly. “Okay?”

Nora smiled to soothe him, the way women did when humoring men. “Okay.”

At the Ritz, she told Cyrus to drop his car with the valet. They went straight to the concierge desk. Cyrus seemed to know the way.

“You been here before?” Nora asked.

“Some men like to cheat in high style,” he said. “Grab that guy, Manny. I always see him here. He knows everything.”

Nora saw a handsome twenty-something Hispanic man in a black suit walk away from an older woman who’d stopped him in the lobby. Nora put on her best smile and oh-so-sweetly asked him if he’d mind checking around for a guest of theirs, a Kingsley Boissonneault. Family emergency, Nora explained, giving her name.

Manny, concierge extraordinaire, told her to leave it to him. Less than a minute later, Kingsley walked into the storied marbled lobby. He held both hands out in a question and gave her a look that said, This better be good.

“What’s he doing here?” he asked Nora.

“Hey, Pierre Capretz,” Cyrus said, “I’m standing right here.”

“This is important,” Nora said. Kingsley rolled his eyes. “Cyrus, cover your ears.”

“What?”

“Trust me, you don’t want to hear this.”

“Weird sex stuff?”

“Gay stuff,” Nora said.

“I’ll just go stand by the fountain.”

As soon as Cyrus was out of earshot, Kingsley said, “Gay stuff?”

“Okay, bi stuff. Whatever. You gave Søren engraved handcuffs. Where did you get them engraved?”

“What? Why do you ask?”

“Long story. Do you remember?”

“Of course I remember. I bought them two weeks ago.”

“I need a name, number, address, whatever you have.”

Kingsley turned his phone on, waited for it to power up. “I’ll be glad when you’re done playing Watson and Sherlock. You interrupt me in the pool, at dinner with Jules—”

“I babysit for free. All the time.”

“Ah,” he said with a pained smile. “A little interruption never hurt anyone. Here we go.” He was scrolling through the contacts in his phone. “His name is Philip Danton but everyone calls him—”