“Good,” I reply. “Paige?”

“It looks like Ashley bought a scarf from a store called Neese’s. The purchase was made just after one in the afternoon,” she reports.

“On it,” Rick says.

“The digital warrant just came through,” Mo says. “We’re good.”

“Thank you, Mo,” I say.

Rick taps out another series of commands on his keyboard, and the pictures of the kids on the monitor at the foot of the table are replaced by the mall’s security feed. It’s in color, and we can see relatively clearly, but the picture is grainer than I would have preferred.

“All these stores are high end. You think they’d be able to spring for better surveillance equipment,” Astra remarks.

“The stores are all just tenants,” Mo says. “You’ll want to talk to the person who owns the mall. Like most landlords, they’re notoriously cheap and do the bare minimum.”

“Thanks for the lesson, Ms. Wizard.”

Mo laughs and turns back to the monitor as Rick scrolls to the time stamp Paige gave us. He hits a key, and the video starts to play. The view is from the concourse just outside the store, and we watch for a couple of minutes before Ashley and Nicole come into view. Lieb is tailing them at a discreet distance, his head turning left and right as he surveys the area.

“There’s our girls,” Astra says.

Lieb pokes his head through the doorway, then turns and nods to the girls. Ashley says something to him and holds her hand up, telling him to stay put. Lieb looks reluctant but remains just outside the front door as they disappear inside. Rick switches the view to the interior cameras. We watch in silence as the girls stroll through the store, talking and laughing with one another as they model shirts and dresses for one another.

“Is there any audio?” Astra asks.

“Nada. Sorry,” Rick replies. “Video only.”

We watch as they move through the store, but my eyes drift to the side of the screen. I turn to see a man lurking behind a rack of dresses.

“There,” I say and point to the man behind the rack. “Stop the video.”

“That looks like the guy Nicole described,” Astra says.

“Exactly.”

He’s not looking at the dresses on the rack. Instead, his eyes seem to be fixed on the girls moving through the store ahead of him.

“That’s got to be him,” Astra says.

“He seems to be a physical match for the guy in the smiley-face mask,” Mo notes.

“Nina, can you punch in on his face and run it through facial rec?” I ask.

“On it.”

The screen changes to a closer view of the guy watching Ashley and Nicole. It’s a little more pixelated up close than I’d like, and I cross my fingers, hoping it’s clear enough to get an ID. A moment later, the screen switches again, the man’s face on the left side while the right side of the screen scrolls through a seemingly never-ending series of mugshots. It takes a couple of minutes, but the flashing images stop on the face of the man in the surveillance video.

“We have a winner,” Nina announces. “Ladies and Rick, meet Nick Zane.”

“Nick Zane,” I say as my eyes widen. “That’s Violet’s ex-boyfriend.”

“Well, that’s quite the coincidence now, isn’t it?” Astra muses.

“And you know how I feel about coincidences,” I say.

“She told us she hasn’t spoken to him or anybody from her old life in ages,” Astra notes.

“Rick, pull Violet’s phone records. I want to know if she’s been in contact with Nick.”

“On it,” he replies.

“I want the rest of you to drill down on Nick. I want to know where he is, where he’s been, and what he’s doing,” I say, then turn to Astra. “You and I are going to go have a chat with Violet and see what else she’s been lying to us about.”

“Agents,” Violet says, surprised. “What are you doing here? Has something happened?”

Violet stands in the open doorway, her eyes wide and fear painting her features.

“We need to talk,” I tell her. “Can we come in?”

“Of course.”

She opens the door, letting us step inside, then closes it behind us, and we follow her to the kitchen. Her shoulders are tight, her body is tense, and she looks like a woman who knows the other shoe is about to drop; she’s bracing for the impact. Violet walks around to the other side of the island, almost like she’s trying to put as much physical distance between us as possible.

“Can I offer you some tea, Agents?”

“No, we’re fine, thank you,” I reply.

A black kettle is whistling softly on the stove. Violet turns it off, then pours its contents into a mug that’s sitting on the island. Still avoiding our eyes, she replaces the kettle and puts a tea bag into her cup and lets it steep. She’s growing tenser, so I let the silence linger.

“So,” she says, still not meeting our eyes, but finally unable to bear the tension any longer. “What can I do for you, Agents?”

“We wanted to find out why you lied to us,” Astra says abruptly.

Violet’s hand trembles as she dips her tea bag in the hot water. Setting it down, she licks her lips and swallows hard.

“I—I don’t know what you mean,” she says. “I haven’t lied to you.”

“You told us you haven’t spoken with anybody from your former life in a long time,” Astra presses. “You said you cut them off when Senator Barlow gave you a second chance.”

“I did.”

“Then why is Nick Zane calling you?” Astra asks.

“Better question, why is Nick Zane following Ashley?” I add.

Violet’s face drains of color, and her lips tremble as tears spill from the corners of her eyes and down her pale cheeks.