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“I think… I think I should go—sorry, we should go have another chat with Mr. Martin Yeo,” Con said.

“Yeah, I think so, too,” Alex agreed. “I guess it was about the money, after all.”

Con squinted, not following. Despite the reveal of Adon Guerrero snorting coke and spouting transphobia in the video, his mind was still halfway in the California desert, searching for gold.

His mind was back on The Sandman. Who was he kidding, thinking that just one terrible life event and the mostly symbolic act of throwing out pages, which were, incidentally, all backed up as digital copies, would be enough for him to finally let go?

“Well, it wasn’t about making money from uploading the videos, but this is obviously someone’s attempt to exploit Adon.”

Con nodded--it made sense now. It was convoluted, complicated, and involved, but it did very much appear to be an exploitation scheme.

But orchestrated by whom?

“I found the other videos— Eclipse and Rise of the Titans —on here, too. The metadata shows that they were all uploaded by the same user: DLean1908.”

Con raised an eyebrow at this.

“No idea,” Alex said, reading his confusion. “But I bet if I go through these videos and do the same thing I did with Quantum Guardians ? I’ll find some damning videos featuring the other people on Martin’s list.”

“Hold that thought.”

Con pulled out his phone and dialed a number.

He spoke briefly then hung up.

“Hey, you didn’t happen to bring something nice to wear with you when you flew over from Quantico, did you?”

Alex crinkled her nose.

“Something… nice to wear?”

“Yeah, that was Martin’s secretary. He’s apparently unavailable to meet with us because he’s preparing for a party tonight. His party.”

“I’m still not following.”

Con laughed to himself.

“If you didn’t bring something nice to wear, you might want to do a little shopping.”

The creases on Alex’s brow and the bridge of her nose remained.

“You got us an invite?”

“Not exactly. But I know a guy who works in the industry, writes entertainment articles in addition to serial killer exposés. Skittish, licks his lips like more than LL Cool J? I bet if I can put just a little pressure on him, he can find us a way in.”

***

Alex hadn’t brought anything nice with her to Orange County. She’d just packed up whatever was comfortable and would fit in her bag before rushing off to the airport.

After leaving the office, Alex headed downtown to grab a cocktail dress. The prices were outrageous, mind-bogglingly high, so she settled on a department store find.

A long, silver, not sequined but highly reflective dress. As a backup, she’d picked up a short black number, tight, more revealing.

“What do you think?” Alex said, turning her back to the mirror and holding her cell phone out so that Tori could get a better look at her outfit.

“Jesus, what happened to your back? Those bruises…”

Alex gave Tori an abbreviated version of what had transpired in the theater. With every word, the girl’s eyes grew wider.

“Shit. That’s insane. Does it hurt?”

“A little,” Alex lied. It hurt like hell. Making progress on the case made the pain bearable, though. She took a moment to inspect herself in the mirror. The silver dress was low cut in the back, and she could see red welts raised on her skin. Tomorrow, they’ll be black and blue. “But you’re right, this isn’t going to do. Hold on a second.”

Alex switched off the video camera, slid out of the dress, and then squeezed into the black outfit.

She turned the camera back on.

“What do you think?”

“Holy shit. You look amazing,” Tori exclaimed.

She did look good, Alex knew. A far cry from amazing—she was tired, worn out—but with a little makeup and in good lighting, it could work.

“You don’t think it’s a bit too short?” she asked.

Alex smoothed the front of the skirt, trying to stretch it past midthigh. The material, some spandex derivative, just bounced back.

“I mean, it’s a Hollywood party, right?”

“It’s a work party, Tori.”

When Tori didn’t say anything, she looked at her friend. Tori’s face was obnoxiously close to the screen, one of her trademarks.

“Sure, it is,” Tori joked, rolling her eyes. “You going with that hottie of a partner of yours?”

The awkward attempt at a kiss flashed in Alex’s mind.

“He’s like ten years older than me,” Alex said. She reconsidered, picturing Con as he’d looked on the day they’d met: disheveled, five o’clock shadow, pitted eyes. “Make that fifteen.”

“So what? He’s cute. You never really did tell me what he’s like, BTW.”

One word came to mind now: brooding.

“I’m not sure yet. Listen, Tori, I’ve got to go. I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”

“Sure. Have a good time. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Alex hung up the phone.

It was nearly nine-thirty and Con said he would pick her up at ten.

That didn’t leave much time to do her hair and makeup. The former was quick, as Alex elected not to straighten her brown hair and instead just went with her natural waves. Her makeup was a different story. The dark circles under her eyes were difficult to disguise without caking the foundation on.

She was applying eyeliner when there was a knock on her hotel door.

“Con?”

“Yeah, you almost ready?”

“Almost. Come in, grab a beer from the mini fridge.”

Alex swung the bathroom door closed with her foot and continued to draw on the rim of her eyelids.

She heard Con enter and open a beer in the other room.

“Did Dwight come through?” she asked.

“He did. Hooked us up. Gave us all new identities.”

Alex frowned and then immediately regretted the way it made her makeup clump. She relaxed her features.

“Didn’t you meet Martin Yeo already? And the others? Won’t they recognize you?”

“Let’s just say that I clean up real nice. It’ll help that Dwight said that Martin’s parties are pretty legendary. Everyone smashed before the thing even starts.”

Alex was skeptical, but he was the man in charge.

She pulled back from the mirror, puckered her lips, and applied a nude shade of lipstick.

Not ba d, she thought. Not bad at all.

“Ready,” Alex said and stepped out of the bathroom.

The instant Con saw her, the beer bottle slipped from his hand.

“Shit, sorry,” he said, bending over to pick it up. Con’s eyes remained locked on her the entire time, and it took him several attempts to grab the bottle.

Alex allowed herself a small smile as Con continued to gape.

“It’s okay, you can say it.”

Con exhaled.

“You look amazing.”

Alex did a little curtsy and took her partner in.

The change was incredible. Con was wearing a crisp black suit, black tie, white shirt. It appeared bespoke. His face was freshly shaved and his hair, short as it was, didn’t have a strand out of place.

His skin seemed to glow.

To be honest, if Alex didn’t know better, she would have been hard-pressed to recognize this version of Constantine Striker from their first or second meetings.

“You look pretty damn good yourself. Now finish that beer and let’s get going.”