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My phone rang beside me and I answered it without looking at the Caller ID. “Yeah?”

“Ms. Voss,” Warren answered, his voice curt as usual. “We’re researching the information you’ve provided us with. It may take a few hours to find anything concrete without a surname. Is there a way you could get a little more information?”

“No,” I said immediately. I didn’t want to ask Mia to relive anything else, nor did she need to know what I was doing. “Whatever I gave you is all I can get. You’ll have to make the most of it, and quickly. I want this handled by tomorrow.”

“As you wish, Ms. Voss,” he said, hanging up.

I knew it was asking a lot, especially since I couldn’t even be sure that Donnie was his real name.

But what was the point of money and power if it wasn’t put to use?

Walking along a crowded sidewalk, my phone pressed to my ear, I reeled in the deep sense of discomfort. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been alone in public in any capacity, much less going somewherewithoutMia.

“Warren,” I said, dodging a group of excited teenagers. “What have you got?”

“The team of private investigators that we hired have found… a lot,” he began, and I strained to hear his words over the chaos around me. “His name is Donnie Braga, and his repertoire is as extensive as they come.”

“Is this backed by evidence or hearsay?” I asked, knowing well enough that Warren would never bring me hearsay.

“The team managed to acquire some very damning evidence,” he said, the curl of a smirk in his words obvious. “I’ve already emailed it to you and the local police force. They should be waiting for you, by the way. Their detectives were very interested in what we offered.”

“Good.” I smirked. “What about the other meeting I asked you to arrange?”

“That one was a little trickier,” he admitted, and I frowned. “But the meeting location has been sent to you as well, and the other, ah,partyhas accepted the request.”

“Fantastic,” I said.

“If you’d allow your security team to escort you,” Warren added, but I swiftly cut him off.

“No security,” I reminded him. “I want this done quickly and without any incident. That includes tipping the team off while I’m already there.”

“Understood.” He sighed. “Then please ensure you check in both before and after your meeting.”

“I’ll text Terry,” I conceded. “This is a little extreme, isn’t it? I mean, I’ve dealt with worse before and security wasn’t nearly as stressed.”

“Ms. Voss.” Warren sighed, his exasperation filtering through the phone. “You are in a different country surrounded by uncertainties. You’re not allowing your security team much leeway and, frankly, as the head of your legal team, my hands are tied. We just want to ensure your wellbeing.”

“And I’m ensuring Mia’s,” I almost snapped. “Just get this done. I’ll handle the rest.”

I hung up before he could protest and stopped outside the precinct. I walked in, trying to remember every bit of Portuguese Mia had taught me, and flagged down the nearest officer.

“Ms. Voss?” he said immediately, and I blinked.

“Yes.”

“Right this way,” he said, his accent rounding each word into a melody.

The way Mia’s had when she first moved to America.

Thanking Warren for somehow making sure this would be as easy as possible, I followed the officer. He led me further into the precinct, down a set of corridors and into a simply furnished room, where two other men sat waiting.

“Please have a seat,” he said, gesturing at the one empty seat in the room.

“Thanks,” I said, taking a seat as he introduced me to the other men in rapid-fire Portuguese.

“Detective Moreira,” he said, indicating the older detective before pointing to the youngest. “And Detective Costa.”

They both wore similar clothes: black slacks and white shirts, although they wore different ties. Detective Costa’s deep blue tie looked sorely out of place next to Detective Moreira’s goldfish tie.