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wasn’t. I searched Carter’s social media page, finding him tagged in only two photos from the night in question. One of the photos was a group shot of the men when they first arrived, and it was taken in the parking lot. I knew it was early in the evening since everyone looked sober. The second photo was taken inside, but I didn’t spot the girl from the cake. The cake came an hour after they arrived, though I wasn’t clear why they needed a girl to pop out of a cake for a bachelor party, but that wasn’t something I needed to waste my brain power on.

“Are these the only photos he’s in?” Brad asked.

“I think so.”

“Son of a bitch. He took them just to make it look like he had an alibi. He must have slipped away without anyone noticing.”

“We have to be sure.” I checked Michael Tolliver’s photos and the ones his friends posted of the event. Apparently, the few who were concerned about getting in trouble with work or their spouses weren’t tagged, but Michael had given us a list of names. None of them had records. And even the ones who weren’t tagged popped up in dozens of photos.

“We never did a deep dive on Carter.” Brad cursed. “I should have. I told you I’d check with the strip club.” He dialed the rideshare driver he’d previously questioned and asked a dozen questions about the men. By now, I was certain the driver had forgotten most of the details, but when Brad hung up, I could see the answer on his face. “He doesn’t remember driving a blond guy home.”

“Carter’s our guy. Well, one of them.” I sucked in a breath. “He apologized at the apartment. I remember thinking it was weird, like he wanted to tell us something but couldn’t. Do you remember that? I thought it was guilt over the weed and being high while we questioned him. I didn’t realize there was more to it.”

“Neither did I.”

“Our cop instincts suck. What’s worse is he apologized to me in the liquor store. He didn’t want to kill me, but he didn’t think he had a choice. If we can bring him in, I think we can flip him. Diego stayed cool and detached, but Carter was a mess. He’ll break.”

“That’s why Gravelly Voice wanted him to pull the trigger. He needed him to commit such a heinous act that we wouldn’t consider giving Carter a deal or would refuse to believe anything he said.”

“Do you think that’s why Carter attacked Officer Cruz? Because he was forced to?”

“Possibly, or because he thought it’d be better to knock out a cop than to kill one.”

While we waited to hear back from the precinct, Brad and I searched every database and social media platform we could think of in order to find a connection between Diego Eisner and Carter Moore. But as far as I could tell, none existed.

Brad picked up his phone a few dozen times, blew into his fist, and stared at the board from his spot on my coffee table. I slumped back onto the pillows and reread his notations a hundred times. Since we weren’t at work, Brad picked up Gunnie’s tennis ball and tossed it in the air.

Immediately, the puppy sat up from where he’d been lying on the floor next to me and watched the ball sail toward the ceiling. Two tosses later, he went over to Brad and wagged his tail.

“Sorry, buddy.” Brad gently tossed the ball down the hall, and Gunnie chased after it, returning a few seconds later. He dropped it at Brad’s feet, and my partner tossed it again.

I turned the computer back on, typing with one hand so I wouldn’t have to get up. Carter didn’t have much of a social media presence. Then again, neither did Diego. “Did Mac tell you how long it’d take for her to do a deep dive?”

“She said she’d get right on it and let us know, unless Lisco or the LT intercepts her first.”

“She’ll still call you back.” I tapped my finger against the side of the laptop. “What if we cross-reference Diego and Carter with Moonlight Security and LockBox. We might find something.”

“I doubt it. We know Carter’s name didn’t pop when we checked, and Diego has a record. They don’t hire felons, remember?”

“Right.” I tried to think of another way to figure out why these men committed these crimes and who their ringleader could be. “What about an address search?” I opened a tab and brought up the map. Then I entered Diego’s home and work address into it. I repeated the process with Carter’s apartment number and the addresses for his two jobs. They had to intersect somewhere, but where?

“Find something I missed?”

“Nope.” I rubbed my eyes, glad that the yellowish-green bruises no longer hurt. “But Carter and Diego have to link together.”

“Not necessarily. Gravelly Voice could be the connection. Diego and Carter might not have anything in common.”

“Then why wouldn’t Gravelly Voice trust Carter?” I asked.

Brad tossed the tennis ball again. “I don’t know.” But his mind was elsewhere. “We found two blood samples in the liquor store that didn’t match you. One has to be Diego. He’s the one you hit with the bottle.”

“I’m not following.”

“The other sample was beside the broken glass door to the cooler. That would make it…?”

“Carter’s blood, I think. It happened so fast, but it must have been him.” So much of it was a blur, probably from the adrenaline, the injury, and the lack of proper lighting.

“That doesn’t help us ID the ringleader.” Brad went to the board. “You’re sure our unsub disarmed the security system? It wasn’t Carter or Diego who did it?”

“No, it’s the unknown third party. When I told him to put his hands

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