When she would have replaced the framed photo where she’d found it, York walked in. He looked surprised to find her at his desk.

“I was admiring your wall of fame.” She mustered up a smile. “Then I spotted this photo. Who is the man with you? He looks so familiar.”

York accepted the photo from her and smiled down at it, as if remembering the day it was taken. “This is back in my college days, and that is my old friend and frat brother Theo Thompson. I’m sure you’ve seen him all over the news. He’s following in his father’s footsteps to the Alabama State Senate. Of course, he’s a wee bit older now, like myself.”

“That’s probably why he looks familiar.” Barely able to restrain the need to rush out to tell Falco she had confirmation, Kerri surveyed the wall once more. “You have quite a number of impressive awards, Mr. York.”

“Just doing my job, Detective. Like you.”

A young man entered the office, almost stumbling over his own feet. Tall, thin. Dressed impeccably. Dark hair. “Sorry.” He righted his glasses and then extended his hand toward Kerri. “I’m Finn Garrett. You’re here about Amelia? I was wondering why she hadn’t come back to work. Is she all right?”

“This is actually my nephew,” York said. “We’re very proud of him.”

Kerri shook the boy’s hand, noting the two had the same nose. She should have noticed that already. “Thanks for talking to me, Finn. We actually don’t know where Amelia is, and we’re very worried about her. She’s been out of pocket for a few days, and now we’ve learned that she hasn’t been coming to work. That was quite a shock to us all.”

He blinked twice, three times. “Amelia did mention that she had a friend who was experiencing a bit of trouble. Maybe she’s helping her.”

Since he referred to the friend as her, Kerri asked, “Do you know which friend it is?”

He shook his head. “Sorry, I don’t. We’re always busy at work, so we don’t have a lot of time for social conversations. I really hope she’s all right. Amelia is a great intern and a really nice person. Everyone loves her.”

That was Amelia. Everyone always loved her.

Kerri withdrew one of her business cards and handed it to Finn. “Could you call me if you remember anything at all she might have said that would give us some idea what’s going on with her?”

“Of course.” He tucked the card into the pocket of his button-down shirt. “When you find her, please tell her that we miss her.”

Kerri thanked Finn and York for their help and got out of the building as quickly as possible. Falco was leaning against his car, waiting for her. He didn’t ask any questions until they were inside and driving away.

“York and the others insist they don’t know what happened. She just stopped coming to work. I did speak to another intern, and he said the same thing.” Kerri leaned back against the headrest. “I don’t like this, Falco.” Her gut was in knots. This was wrong, wrong, wrong.

“We’ll find her.” Her partner glanced at her. “While you were in York’s office, we got a callback from the crime scene tech.”

“Any hits on the prints?” She doubted they would get so lucky, but she could hope. She rubbed at her temples, wished away the headache forming there.

“Sela’s, Ben’s, the mother’s, and some others that didn’t match anything in the system.”

“Damn it. I was hoping for more.”

He glanced at her, a grin cutting across his face. “The rushed analysis we asked for on the crib linens was a different story. They found traces of mineral oil, alkaline salts, and some kind of acid that I can’t remember the name of as well as a couple different alcohols along with benzyl acetate and a vegetable oil of some type.”

She groaned. “Is there something more specific all that tells us?”

He braked at a red light and turned to her. “Gun cleaner and lubricant.”

“Well, I’ll be damned.” She shook her head. “There was a gun hidden in the crib.”

“Yep, and we missed it.”

“We just . . . shit.”

“Yeah. We just gave the crib a pass. Like everyone else.”

Kerri shook her head. “Of all the dumb-ass bad moves.” She turned to her partner with her own news flash. “One good thing did come of my visit with York.”

“Don’t keep me in suspense, Devlin.” He glanced at her as he slowed for the next intersection.

“The guy in the photo with the older sister is Theo Thompson. No question.”

“You showed him the photo?”

“I didn’t have to.” She explained about the photo on his desk.

Falco’s grin was back. “Well, kiss my ass. Maybe Bellemont isn’t trying to lead us down the wrong path. He said whatever happened to Sela had something to do with Thompson and York.”

“Which makes this photo evidence—sort of,” she qualified. “We should take this and talk to Bellemont. Maybe if he realizes we’re taking him seriously, he’ll give us more. I’m certain he knows more than he’s sharing.”

“There’s someone else we need to talk to first.”

Falco didn’t look at her as he rolled away from the intersection.

“Who?”

“She’s a friend of mine. We did some undercover work together once. She’s my contact that does a little PI work on the side. You know, the one I told you had heard some things about Abbott.”

She remembered. “Why do we need to talk to this person?”

“Because she knows things, Devlin.”

Well, that really explained everything. “You said that before.”

“Trust me.”

That was the thing—she did trust him.

Corner of Sixth Avenue, Twenty-Seventh Street

“Her name is Sadie Cross. Her friends call her Cross because if you cross her—”

“I get the picture,” Kerri grumbled. She’d lost track of the details he’d spouted off about the woman on the drive over here. What was it about this Sadie Cross that made him nervous? Maybe he and she had a thing?

Whatever the case, his friend lived in a not-so-hot neighborhood with a higher-than-average crime rate—above a pub, no less. The perfect combination for trouble. To access her place, the fire escape stairs in the alley had to be utilized. The entrance from inside the pub had been closed off long ago, according to Falco.

“So this Sadie Cross is a cop,” Kerri said as they climbed the stairs.

“That’s right. She doesn’t talk about her work in the department, so don’t bring it up.”

“What’s the deal with the PI gig?”

“She took over for a friend after he died.”

It didn’t really matter who Cross was or what she did. Kerri was desperate. She needed to find her niece, and she needed this case solved. To that end, she waited on the landing while Falco knocked on the woman’s door.

The pop of one, two, three, no wait . . . four dead bolts turning in succession sounded before the door opened. Judging by the two cameras Kerri had spotted—one at the bottom of the stairs and another at the landing—the woman knew who was coming before they knocked on the door.

In the pub, folks were already piling in for the posted four o’clock happy hour.

Falco walked through the door; Kerri followed. The place was one massive space. Very urban with exposed ductwork and a ceiling that went all the way to the roof. Metal-framed windows on three sides looked out over everything but the alley between this building and the next.

The woman, presumably Sadie Cross, closed the door and looked from Falco to Kerri.

“I said I’d talk to you.” This she directed at Falco. Her voice was raspy like she’d smoked cigarettes for too many years. “Why is she here?”

Maybe Kerri should ask herself the same question. Just how desperate was she?

She thought of Amelia. Pretty damned desperate.

“You can trust her,” Falco said.

Cross made a sound, a sort of disgruntled rumble. Kerri estimated her to be a couple of years older—thirty-eight, maybe. She was about the same height as Kerri, five-five or five-six, but leaner. Her hair was black, eyes were gray, and the clothes she wore were as dark as her hair. With her too-pale skin she looked like one of those anime characters who could be a hero or a criminal.

Kerri was leaning toward the criminal possibility.

“Whatever you say.” Cross cut Falco a look that warned it was his head if he was wrong.

“I mentioned we’re working the Abbott homicide case,” he said.

“Sucks to be you.” Cross wandered to a table and picked up a pack of cigarettes, tapped one out, and lit up.

“We think the wife is still alive and hiding out, but we haven’t been able to find her.”

“It’s always best to start with the most obvious places,” Cross suggested before taking a long draw from her cigarette.