She would argue, but her knees were too weak to support her any longer. Nate and Garrison lifted her onto the tailgate. Garrison popped his trunk, found a fleece blanket, and slipped it over her shoulders. "I usually keep it with me, just in case."

She didn't know what to say.

Nate said, "You probably have all sorts of emergency preparedness supplies in your trunk, too, right?"

"Flashlight, first aid kit, auto-repair kit, jumper cables, and flares. And granola bars and bottles of water."

"I knew it."

"Hungry? Thirsty?"

Nate glanced at Marisa. "We're okay right now."

They were kind to make conversation while she regained her sanity. She feared they'd need to talk a lot longer, but sane or not, she had to go on. "I'm okay." She looked at Garrison. "When did she die?"

"Their first guess, sometime last night."

Nate touched her hand tentatively. She gripped his back like it might keep her from slipping away. She felt a modicum of comfort.

Nate squeezed her hand. "Let's give her time to process—"

"No." She shook her head and nodded to Garrison.

Garrison continued. "They found her body in an alley in Chelsea, but that's not the murder scene."

"How did...?" Marisa's voice was weak. She cleared her throat and continued. "How did she die?"

"Again, it's just a guess right now, but based on...it looks like she bled to death."

She tried to process that. Bled to death. "From a wound, or...?"

"You don't need the details, Marisa."

Garrison was probably right. Still. "Was she shot?"

He shook his head and looked at Nate, who sighed. "Why don't we just—?"

"Please just tell me."

"She was beaten and stabbed," Garrison said. "A couple of times."

An image of her sister's body, bloody and broken, filled her mind. Garrison had been right. She hadn't needed that information. Nausea rose again, but she swallowed it back.

Garrison turned to Nate. "I thought you could identify the body."

"Of course. How did your partner find out about it?"

"Her fingerprints gave the cops her identity."

Nate considered that. "Why would they have her fingerprints?"

"She had a Certificate of Conduct for herself and all her employees. It's like a background check for NYC employees. I assume so clients would know they could be trusted."

"Ironic," Marisa said.

Nate glanced at her, and she looked away.

Garrison said, "My partner wants you two to come in and tell him everything."

Marisa shook her head. "This guy..." She swallowed hard. "We know now that this guy's a killer. No way I'm taking that chance."

Garrison looked at Nate. "Okay. You'll want to wait to ID the body, because they'll hold you up, and you don't want to lie to them."

"Do they know I'm involved?"

"My old partner, Simon, does, but he hasn't told the NYPD anything about the kidnapping. He's staying involved. If the police can figure out who killed her—"

"We'll have our kidnapper," Nate said.