Eli chucks an M&M into his mouth. “I say we just call her Kitten.”
River confiscates Eli’s candy. “Whoever she is, she’s off limits.” He turns to Jude. “Did she say anything to you?”
“No. Nothing.”
My computer finishes its search and I stop listening to their conversation. The results flash on the screen and I lean closer, scanning the photos the facial recognition software has pulled up until I find a decent match. It’s a school photo, she’s a tiny spot in a sea of faces. Someone tried to bury the picture and they’d done a seriously good job. If I hadn’t been looking this hard, I never would have found it. She looks younger in the photo, maybe only sixteen and her hair is brown not ginger but her green eyes suggest the brown is a dye-job. I zoom in on the names listed along the bottom of the photo, counting as I go until I find the one that belongs to our mystery woman.
“Holy cannoli.” My mouse stills, the cursor hovering in place. “And bingo was his name-o,” I mutter.
It’s a testament to how much we’re all invested in this case that no one calls me up on the dreadful catchphrase. I choose a different one each time to drive Eli mad, but he doesn’t take the bait.
“You found her?” he asks.Oh, I’ve found her alright.
River plants his hands on my desk and looks at the screen. “Who is she?”
I point at the name on the bottom of the photo. “Angelica Maxwell.”
Eli jerks up out of his chair. “As in Arthur Maxwell’s daughter?”
“I thought she was dead?” Jude says.
River stares at the photo of her. “She’s supposed to be.” He pushes away from the desk and runs a hand through his hair. “Oz, get me everything you can on the car accident she was in. I want the crash report, autopsy, the name of every single person who worked that case.”
“On it.” I spin back to my computer, but I hear the vulnerability in Eli’s voice as he faces River.
“I don’t think I can do this,” he says.
My heart squeezes for Eli. I can’t imagine what he’s feeling right now.
River doesn’t show him any pity though. He just pulls back his shoulders and heads for the door. “Yes, you can. Let’s go.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
River
SHE’S GONE. I stare at the unlocked cuffs on the table. I should have put guards on her. I knew what I was going to find the second I turned into the corridor and saw the door was ajar, but a lightning strike of shock shoots through me. Despite my instincts warning me about her, I still managed to underestimate the tiny woman.It’s unacceptable.
Angelica Maxwell. I don’t like the name; Freya suits her better.
I shake my head. I barely know the little con-artist and already I’m attached. I should be trying to keep a professional distance, but I know, the second she’s back in my custody, I won’t be letting her out of my sight.
I stride back to Oz’s den, Eli and Jude on my heels.
“Back so soon?” Oz asks.
Jude runs a hand through his curls. “I screwed up.”
Oz frowns and pushes back from his desk.
“Pull up the security cameras for the interrogation rooms and the building perimeter,” I order.
Realization dawns and Oz does as I asked.
Eli is a dark shadow behind me as we watch Freya –Angelica– pick the lock like she’s done it a thousand times before. She glances up at the camera, something like regret flashing across her face before she slips from the room.
“Like father, like daughter,” Eli mutters.
A feeling deep inside me rebels against his statement. “She hasn’t killed anyone yet.”
