was settled behind the wheel and the engine running, did I pop the passenger door and slide inside. In minutes we left Carlos and his curious friends behind.

I set the notebooks on the floorboard and then put my Sig back in the ankle

holster. “San Diego?”

Kayden shrugged.

I wiped the sweat trickling down the side of my face and sat back. Between

the heat and tension, I was a bit lightheaded. The car’s AC valiantly fought to replace the oven-like air in the car. To help it along, I powered the window down.

Kayden wove his way out of the neighborhood. “At least we can give

Delacourt a name to run, while we go through those notebooks.”

Since he was busy driving, I made the call to Delacourt. It was frustratingly

short as there was little information to share. She promised to call back with whatever she could find about Tito’s friend in San Diego. After hanging up, I propped my arm on the edge of the window and glanced in our rearview mirror

as we pulled out on to Twenty-Fourth Street. “Delacourt said she’d send

someone to help us with the notebooks, but identifying Boomer, Bomber,

whoever, is going to be like finding a needle in a haystack.”

Unruffled, he asked, “You have a better suggestion?”

I drummed my fingers on the edge of the door. “Let’s swing by Kelsey’s

place.”

He gave me a look I couldn’t read. “You think she may have left something

for you there?”

“Maybe.” A puff of cooler air escaped the AC, indicating it made progress,

so I powered my window back up.

For a moment Kayden remained quiet. “And if it’s being watched, so much

the better?”

I shrugged, staring steadfastly out the window. “Bait, remember? Maybe

Ellery will make this easy on us.”

“Address?”

Grateful he wasn’t arguing, I gave it to him. Part of me knew it was a shot in

the dark, but it didn’t matter, couldn’t matter. If dangling myself out there was what it took to snag the attention of a psychopath, so be it.

CHAPTER 11

A s we walked up to the glass doors of Sixth Street Condos, Kayden tilted

his head back to take in the two towers that rose above Mill Avenue in the heart of Tempe. “Nice.”

He opened the lobby door and held it for me. Cool air reached out and

twined around us, as I crossed the tiled floor.

The man at the security desk was short, stocky, and in his forties. When he

recognized me, he called out, “Hey, Cyn, I didn’t know you were in town. I think

Kelsey’s out on a company trip.”

Hearing her name put a hitch in my step, but I managed what I hoped was a

smile and not a grimace. “Hey, Terrance.” Reluctant to get drawn into his normal

friendly banter, I kept moving and led Kayden to the elevator. I called back,

“Just need to pick up something from my last visit.”

When Kelsey first moved in, I put Terrance through an impromptu interview.

After which, he decided we were his personal responsibility. Part of the reason I

didn’t worry about Kelsey living in this fairly new high rise could be traced back

to him. As the head of Sixth Street’s security, he took his duties seriously. During what Kelsey dubbed as my infamous interrogation, Terrance and I bonded over

our shared paranoia on personal safety and swapped stories of our time in the military. Something Kelsey delighted in teasing us both about, claiming we were

two peas in a pod.

I hurried into the elevator, haunted by the remembered sounds of Kelsey’s laughter. It twisted the small bit of normalcy into something disquieting. Once

inside, I leaned against the back wall and crossed my arms over my chest, blindly staring at the floor. I set my jaw and struggled to push my reawakened grief back as the doors slid closed.

“Which floor?”

I lifted my head at Kayden’s question and cleared my throat. “Seven.”

He hit the button, then met my gaze in the reflective surface of the elevator