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Brie points to the top right quadrant. “The clock. It’s showing the same time each time the camera switches to it, even though it’s still moving. Someone’s looped the footage.”

“Well, damn,” I breathe. “Good catch.”

I move closer to the TV, something nagging at the edge of my vision. “Go back a minute,” I instruct Holden. “Now speed it up?”

As the footage goes by faster, it makes it easier to spot—a faint movement across the screen, almost imperceptible at normal speed.

Brie squints at it. “It almost looks like…a ghost.”

“That’s no ghost,” Holden says grimly. “That blur indicates something—or more likely someone—was removed from the video. Terry used to ask security to do an erase-pass of footage now and then, but in such a way that it didn’t destroy the original image. That blurring effect was the same on the ones I saw.”

“So if it doesn’t destroy the original image,” Brie repeats. “Does that mean…”

He nods. “With the right equipment, and the right knowledge, it should be possible to restore it.”

“Holden,” I say slowly. “Canyourestore the image?”

He gives a grim smile. “I can try.”

“Get on it,” Brie tells him. “Right now. And keep it quiet—don’t let anyone else in security know what you’re doing.”

He makes a face. “I’ll have to sit in there with them—but I’ll make up some story.” He grabs the flash drive and gives Brie one last hug. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” he murmurs, and then he’s out the door.

As soon as he’s out of earshot, I turn to Brie. “Pack your bags. We’re leaving.”

Brie’s eyes widen in surprise. “But?—”

“No,” I say firmly. “This time, you do what I say. You can’t trust anyone right now; you said so yourself. My job is to keep you safe, and I can’t do that here, surrounded by Colombos and—and other potential threats.”

“Where will we go?” she asks, a hint of fear creeping into her voice.

I hesitate for a moment, then ask, “Are you sure no one knows about your house in the Solara community?”

Brie bites her lip, thinking. “No one but you—and Holden now, I guess—and…well, the women I’ve taken back there occasionally.”

I feel a flare of hot jealousy at her words, but choose to ignore it. “Then that’s where we’ll go,” I say after a moment. “We need to move fast. Grab what you need.”

“It won’t be much. Everything I need is there already. I can help you pack, if you like?”

“All I need is my go-bag.” I hurry back to my room to grab that, while I contemplate the wisdom of what I’m about to do. The smart play—as far as my career goes—would be to call Eva, let her know exactly what’s happening. Explain why I won’t be kowtowing to her tomorrow morning and spilling everything I’ve learned about the Colombos. But something stops me.

Right now, this is bigger than the Consortium.

This is about keeping Brie alive.

The only trace we leave behind is a hastily scrawled note for Frank: “Brie is safe. Will call when we reach a secure location.”

The drive to Solara in one of Brie’s own SUVs is tense, both of us scanning for any signs of pursuit. But the roads are empty, the night calm and indifferent to our plight.

Brie’s house in the gated community is a masterpiece of modern luxury. As she gives me a quick tour of the place, I admire the way metal and glass are married with terracotta and stone, and the floor-to-ceiling windows that offer a breathtaking view of the cold, starlit desert.

Most of the places I spend my time are utilitarian. Eva lives in luxury, of course. But I’m still trying to prove myself.

Are you?

The thought comes unbidden. But of course I am. Taking off with Brie in contravention of a direct order from Eva notwithstanding. I plan to talk to Eva as soon as I can, but keeping the Colombo widow safe was heroriginaldirect order.

That’s what I plan to argue, anyway.