“Lila…Nash.”

“Give those to Ms. Nash and then go see Frank Dovey. You’re apparently being reassigned.”

Ryan looked at Lila and then back at Fitch, as though waiting for the catch. When neither said anything, he handed the stack to Lila and left.

“The Gray case is your priority. I need a complaint done today. I want a draft on my desk in two hours.”

“Gray…that’s the one at the convenience store—the guy that hit his wife?”

Fitch looked mildly curious. “You know the case?”

“Ryan told me about it this morning. Said he was adding a charge of false imprisonment. It might be finished already.”

Fitch appraised Lila for several seconds before saying, “I see.” She leaned back in her chair. “I’ll take a look at it. As for the rest of those, I have notes inside each file. Focus on the cases that need to be charged out. I want you in my office first thing every morning, and I mean first thing, not after coffee, not after chitchat—eight o’clock, here, so I can give you your assignments. Are we clear?”

“Yes, Ms. Fitch.”

“You’re excused.”

Lila stood, the stack of files reaching up to her elbows. When she got to the door, she had to lift a knee to hold the stack so that she could open it.

“Wait,” Fitch said.

Lila turned in the doorway.

“I just want to be clear: If you’re not cut out for this job, it’s best to figure that out early. I will not abide subpar. If you want out now, I’ll be happy to recommend a transfer—maybe Juvenile Prosecution or Child Protection. But if you want to be an attorney in Adult Prosecutions, you will excel or you’ll be out.”

Lila couldn’t take her eyes off Fitch. The woman scared the hell out of her, but at the same time, Andi had a presence unlike anything Lila had ever experienced. Her words moved through the room like music, the tone menacing and dangerous but utterly captivating. Lila remained in the doorway, not sure if Andi had finished. Then Andi said, “Shut the door!”

Lila lifted a shaky knee again to support the stack as she pulled Andi’s door closed behind her.

Chapter 6

By midmorning, Gavin had reached the end of what he could accomplish on his computer and set out into the physical world for the next phase.

He owned two vehicles: a new Lexus GS and his faithful old friend, a 1986 Ford Bronco. It was a hideous rust bucket that shook at speeds over fifty-five miles per hour. But the Bronco had no GPS to record locations of travel, so as far as the matrix of cell towers and satellites were concerned, it didn’t exist.

First, he drove the Lexus between his house and Queen Bebe’s Salon, in search of a path devoid of surveillance cameras, altering his course whenever he saw a stoplight camera or ATM.

Once he’d plotted his route, he drove to a distant thrift store, paying cash for a complete set of clothing: jeans, a hoodie, a T-shirt, sunglasses, shoes, and socks, all of which he would destroy within twenty-four hours. He went to a drugstore and bought latex gloves, hand wipes, and a package of ten condoms. At a nearby Walmart, he bought a burner phone, twenty yards of plastic sheathing, a computer privacy screen, and a large plastic storage bin.