Katie stood when the call ended and approached the young woman’s desk. It was behind a counter with windows that could be closed. Maybe bulletproof. But maybe not. No one could reach this floor without going through security and receiving a special clearance.

The young woman looked at Katie warily when she approached, and then she sighed, realizing that no matter how careful she had been, Katie had heard her.

“Tips. I’m starting to think now everyone in the city has seen something. At first, we couldn’t find a witness for anything in the world, and now suddenly, half of the city has seen the killer, seen someone suspicious. Putting all the law-enforcement agencies in the world together, we haven’t the resources to check out every single tip that’s now coming in. But we have good people! And so do the cops. They can weed through a lot.”

“That was Detective Stapleton?” Katie asked.

The young woman nodded. “He thinks he has a solid lead. He’s looking for Axel and Dan. I’ll be right back—I have to signal to them that Ryder has called.”

She left her post and apparently spoke to someone down the hall who in turn managed to get the message through.

A minute later, Dan and Axel were exiting the inner sanctum of the offices.

They both thanked the receptionist who nodded to them gravely.

“I play jazz every minute of the time I’m home,” she assured them.

“Maybe not a bad idea,” Dan said, smiling. “Okay, let’s go see Ryder.” He set an arm absently around Katie’s shoulders to lead her out of the offices. Axel followed.

“There’s a tip he thinks is real?” Katie asked as they headed downstairs.

Dan nodded.

They left his car and headed straight for Axel’s. He had plates on his car that would allow him parking anywhere in the city, Katie knew. Maybe even anywhere in the country.

“Is Ryder meeting us?” Katie asked as they drove.

Dan shook his head and glanced at her, a grim, dry smile slightly curving his lips.

“Ryder is on to another possibly credible tip. Even after weeding out the sensationalists and attention-seekers, there are a lot of people to follow up with now that the letter to the paper is public knowledge.”

They drove to the Marigny, to an old home in a residential neighborhood that had charming trees and foliage growing in every yard.

They parked and walked up an old brick path to the porch and the front door.

The door opened as they arrived; the woman inside had been waiting for them.

She was in her early sixties, Katie thought, and she looked as if she enjoyed the outside and physical activity. She was thin but wiry, had sandy-colored, slightly graying hair in a stylish, short cut. Her eyes were sharp and blue, and she assessed them quickly.

“Special Agent Axel Tiger?” she asked.