“Hey, buddy, can you take this kid off my hands? He picked a couple pockets at the press conference.” She’d only seen him pick two, but when she cuffed him she felt at least three wallets in the deep pockets of his cargo pants. “Including this.” She slipped the cop’s wallet—with his badge—out of the punk’s back pocket.

The officer looked suspicious. He opened the wallet. “Detective Theodore Coleman. I’ll be damned.”

“She planted that wallet! I didn’t steal nothing,” the kid said.

Kara rolled her eyes.

“I need you to write out a report,” the officer said.

“No problem, but I have to talk to someone first.”

“I haven’t seen you around. New?”

“Detective Kara Quinn. LA, not Spokane. I’ll be right back—” she glanced at his name badge “—Officer Sherman.”

Sherman took the kid from her, a perplexed look on his face, and she walked down the hall to where Matt was walking in with Maddox.

She’d missed most of the Q&A, but figured she wouldn’t learn anything new, and she was certain the killer didn’t show up.

Matt spotted her and did a double take. He said something to Maddox, then walked over to her.

“Where have you been?”

“Watching the crowd.”

“From in here?”

“No.”

“Why don’t you ever give me a straight answer?”

She raised her eyebrows and kept her voice calm. “Do not yell at me.”

Matt motioned for her to follow him. She did. Happily, because he was obviously irritated, and Costa was fun to mess with. He was so damn serious but she saw something more in him than most cops. Maybe it was brains. Maybe it was drive. Whatever it was, she knew he was pissed, and she was going to enjoy the confrontation.

He found an empty conference room and closed the door behind them. It was just them, a table, and two chairs, though neither of them sat down.

“What happened?” he demanded.

“I mixed and mingled. The killer didn’t show.”

“How do you know? You were in here.”

“No—I came in when I caught a teenage pickpocket. By that time, I’d already assessed everyone in the audience—you’d just started Q&A. The killer wasn’t there. Manners’ boss showed up, from the staffing agency. The anticrime group had met with Packard first—they know a lot more than he said to the crowd. I ID’d everyone in the group that was in attendance—they were known to the chapter secretary. Every male who fit the profile in age didn’t fit in other ways. I took pictures of every license plate in the area, which I’ll send to you.”

“I didn’t see you.”

“You were looking for me, not a teenager on a skateboard.”

He opened his mouth, closed it. Mumbled, “Voy a ser condenado. I did see you.”

She smiled. “Told you I could blend in.”

“Catherine is certain he’s tracking the news—and a public, outdoor press conference would be ideal for him.” Matt was frustrated, but Kara tried not to take it personally.