“So, there was never a murder? Your girlfriend never saw anything?”

“No.”

“Then who are they looking for? Who did you supposedly kill?”

“My best friend from college. He agreed to disappear for a price.”

“Dude, he will show back up eventually.”

“No, he has no family here. No deep friendships, besides with me.”

“That’s terribly risky.”

“Believe me, I understand that more than you can possibly know. And I have a contingency plan.”

“Which is?”

“I have a man on standby who will take my ex and children into hiding. I’ve put back millions for that purpose.”

“Who all knows this?”

“No one. No one but Jeff, the guy I supposedly murdered, and my girlfriend. And now you. Damn it.” He chewed his lower lip in thought. “I knew this probably wouldn’t work. I just can’t risk Emily’s well-being. She’s so smart. And she’s brave. She knew they’d go after her.” The thought of her brought a smile to his face. “I’ve never met anyone so willing to risk everything, including her life, for me.”

“So, whose apartment is this?” I asked him.

“Jeff’s.”

“The guy you supposedly killed?”

“The one and only.”

“This is kind of creepy.”

“Really?” Garrett asked, his expression deadpan. “This is creepy?”

“Let me look into this, Phillip, see what I can find out and what can be done.”

“Nothing,” he said. “The game’s over. If they knew I was trying to lose the business on purpose, they’d go after everyone I’ve ever loved.”

“We’re not going to let that happen.”

“Look, if they sent men to your apartment, I promise on my life, they’re bugging you.”

“They definitely bugged. That whole gun-to-the-head thing was very annoying.”

“No, bugs. Surveillance. Watch everything you say. If you repeat this—”

“No, I gotcha.” The captain had been bugging me, too. Literally and metaphorically. “I need to clean house anyway.”

* * *

I called my friend Pari on the way home. “I need you to do my apt.”

“I’m just not that attracted to your apt.”

“I think I’m being bugged.”

“Like I am? Right now?”

“Kind of, only less metaphorically. Do you still have that equipment to detect stuff like that?”

After a very long pause, she said, “No. You know I’m not allowed near anything like that. I am adhering to the conditions of my probation, thank you very much.”

“Okay, but really,” I said.

“Oh, are you asking me if I have that can of bug spray you loaned me?”

I could visualize her winking at me in a blatant attempt at subterfuge. But seriously, who loaned out a can of bug spray and expected it to be returned?

“Um, yes,” I said, playing along. “Do you still have that can of bug spray I loaned you?”

“It will take me a while to comb through my back room, where I have nothing even remotely related to computers and/or electronics-related paraphernalia.”

“You can’t even have electronics-related paraphernalia? What the hell did you do?”

“Not what,” she said, dropping the guise. “But who.”

“Okay, then who did you do?”

“I kind of accidentally on purpose hacked the White House’s phone system.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Do you think that was wise?”

“Not anymore, you can bet your ass on that. They take that stuff really seriously.”

“I wonder why.”

I hung up, then gave my driver—whom I’d temporarily renamed Fitz because Garrett didn’t sound like a driver’s name at all—my full attention. “Have you found out anything else on the Twelve, Fitz?”

“A little,” he said, rolling with it. “I told Dr. von Holstein to focus on them, see what the prophecies say.”

“And?”

“He’s still working on it, but one thing he’s found that’s very interesting is that there are mentions of two sets of Twelve with one defining force in the middle, the thirteenth beast.”

“Really?” I asked, suddenly very interested.

“The way I understand it, there are the Twelve, aka the darkness, but there are also twelve sentient beings of light to balance the scales, sent to protect you, the daughter.”

“That seems like a lot of trouble to go to. And the thirteenth?”

“He is the single being that will tip the scales either to the light or the dark.”

No kidding.

* * *

By the time I got back to my building, Pari was there waiting on me. She lived only a block away, which made it nice, especially when I needed her help with something. Or when I needed a back rub. She had incredible hands.

I’d tried to call Uncle Bob, but he didn’t pick up. I needed to know how it went with the captain. And if he really hired that fake psychic. She totally bleached her hair. I also called Quentin on video chat. He was doing fine as well and asked about Amber.

“Just don’t go around her mother anytime soon. You’ll be skinned alive.”

He winced, and signed, “I understand. I’m really sorry.”