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“And this,” Sanchez said, sliding his arm lightly around the waist of the hazel-eyed brunette standing beside him, “is Annie Stanton.”

Annie smiled shyly. “Hi. I’ve heard a lot about you, Lieutenant Olivieri.”

“It’s Chay,” Chay said. “And whatever Dec told you, don’t believe a word.”

They all laughed and Bianca felt herself begin to relax.

Sanchez had brought two laptops, his smartphone and what looked like a dozen different kinds of cables.

Annie had brought the really important thing.

A box of freshly made doughnuts.

They gathered around the kitchen table, drank coffee, munched on doughnuts, and then Chay turned to Bianca.

“Okay,” he said. “It’s time. I think I have to tell Dec what this is all about before he gets to work. Do you want to stay here while I do—or would you prefer not to hear it all again?”

Bianca’s lips were dry. She went to the sink, poured a glass of water and took a long drink.

“I’ll stay.”

Annie pushed back her chair. “And I’ll wait out—”

“No,” Bianca said. “It’s nothing you can’t hear. Besides, you’re a psych student, right?”

Annie nodded and shoved a strand of dark hair behind her ear. “I studied psych. Right.”

“Well, you might just be able to offer some suggestions. Please. Stay.”

Everyone waited while Chay went into the bedroom and retrieved Bianca’s laptop. He put it on the table and opened it. It was an ordinary computer, but for a couple of seconds nobody did anything except stare at it.

Then Sanchez looked at Bianca.

“You have a password?”

She nodded.

“Okay. Type it in, but don’t do anything else. I need to check for bugs.”

Bianca swallowed hard. Entered her password. The screen lit and Sanchez leaned in. Typed a string of letters. The screen went black. The laptop gave a soft hum and the screen brightened.

Sanchez smiled.

“Clean as a baby’s…bottom.”

And they were in.

• • •

Downloading was fast. Printing came next.

“Dec?” Chay said. “Are we going to be doing anything for, say, the next twenty, thirty minutes?”

Sanchez shook his head. “Not unless you think watching paper spew out of a printer is something special.”

Chay nodded.

The small plastic bag that held the condom he’d taken from Bianca’s apartment was in his pocket. He knew its value was limited. It probably could not be considered actual evidence, because it hadn’t been logged in and entered in a police report, but once they had a solid suspect, the condom’s contents would confirm his identity.