This time, my eyes were the ones that watered. Finn’s too, but we both blinked back our memories of Fletcher and his own brutal murder inside the Pork Pit.

   “I’m sorry that I can’t tell you anything else,” Mosley said. “Elissa is a wonderful girl. She doesn’t deserve what’s happening to her. Neither did Joanna.”

   I gestured at the files. “Can we take these with us? It’s a long shot, but we might find something useful if we compare them with the files we have on the other victims.”

   “Take it all. If you think there’s even a remote chance that you can find Elissa, take it all.” Mosley blew his nose again. “And if there’s anything that I can do to help, anything at all, just say the word. Anything I can do for you, I will.”

   “A favor from one of the most powerful men in Ashland? Careful,” I drawled. “I might just take you up on that.”

   Once again, that faint smile flickered across his face. “My favor does come with one condition.”

   “What’s that?”

   His hazel eyes hardened, and he leaned forward and stabbed his finger at me. “You kill this son of a bitch. With no hesitation and absolutely no mercy. You do that, Gin, and you’ll get all the favors you want from me.”

   “Is this the same deal that you made with Fletcher?”

   “Yes.”

   “Then I accept.”

   “Good.” Mosley leaned back against the cushions again. “What are you waiting for? Get out of here, and get to work.”

   I snapped off a salute to him. “Yes, sir.”

   Mosley harrumphed at my salute, but a small smile lifted the corner of his mouth.

   Since Mosley was out sick, he asked Finn to go to First Trust to check on a few things, while I grabbed the box of information on Joanna’s murder. Once that was done, we left the dwarf to his cold and miserable memories.

   Finn watched me slide the box into the front passenger’s seat of my car. “Now what are you going to do?”

   “I’m going back to the scene of the crime. The last crime, anyway.”

   “Northern Aggression?” Finn asked. “Why? The cops searched that whole place last night. Bria said they didn’t find anything.”

   I slammed the car door shut with far more force than necessary. “Because we still have fuck-all nothing, as you so eloquently put it.”

   Understanding flashed in his green gaze. “You’re getting desperate.”

   I sighed. “Of course I’m desperate. I don’t want to go back to Jade empty-handed. I can’t. We all know that this guy could kill Elissa at any second. And if I don’t find something, some small clue, some tiny thread to follow, that’s exactly what’s going to happen. Sooner rather than later. And then, he’ll kidnap another girl and do the same thing to her.”

   Finn slung his arm around my shoulders and gave me a hug. “We’ll find this guy, Gin. We just need a little more time. Something will turn up. You’ll see.”

   I forced myself to ignore the frustration surging through my body and smile back at him. “Yeah,” I said, lying through my teeth. “You’re right. We’ll find him.”

   • • •

   We said our goodbyes, and Finn headed downtown to First Trust bank, while I drove over to Northern Aggression. It wasn’t quite noon yet, and all the lots around the club were empty, except for a single black Mercedes parked on the street a hundred feet away from the main entrance. The car had probably been left behind by someone too drunk to drive home last night, but I still raised my phone, zoomed in, and snapped a photo of the license plate.

   I got out of my car and scanned the area, but everything was quiet, and I was all alone. It was far too early for the staff to be here, and I didn’t see Roslyn’s car either. She was probably still at home, sleeping in after dealing with the police late last night. So I wandered through the parking lots, not so much looking for clues as just soaking up the peace and quiet and going over everything that had happened. Thinking about everything that I knew about the Dollmaker and how I might find him before he murdered Elissa.

   No realizations bubbled up in my mind, so I finally walked around the side of the building, turned the corner, and strode out into the middle of the cracked, dirty asphalt.

   The three Dumpsters still marked the spot where I’d found Lacey Lawrence’s body, although they’d been pushed apart and off to one side of the parking lot so that the police could better examine and process the scene. The cops had dutifully strung up yellow crime-scene tape all around the empty metal containers and the space between them, but the winter wind had torn most of the tape loose overnight, and the strings fluttered weakly in the steady breeze, like butterflies trying to escape a spider’s sticky web. All of the garbage from the surrounding trash cans had been bagged up as potential evidence and taken to the police station last night, but the air still reeked of sour beer, rancid food, and cigarette smoke.

   Despite the stench, I did a slow, methodical search of the entire area, peering into each and every one of the trash cans, standing up on my tiptoes so I could look into the Dumpsters, and crouching down and examining the spot where I’d found the girl’s body. I even inspected all the cracks in the asphalt in the entire parking lot, just in case anything had slipped into one of the jagged openings.

   Nothing—absolutely nothing.

   All the garbage was long gone, and no blood stained the pavement where Lacey Lawrence had been found. I didn’t find Elissa’s purse, phone, or anything else that might have belonged to her, the dead girl, or the Dollmaker.

   Disgusted, I got to my feet, lashed out, and kicked an empty beer bottle with a broken neck that had somehow escaped Bria and Xavier’s garbage pickup last night. The bottle hit the side of a metal trash can and exploded on impact, showering the pavement with sharp shards. I looked around, searching for something else to break, something else to take my anger, disgust, and worry out on—