I pressed the button for the lobby.

The elevator ride was silent, save for the hum of the cables.

When the doors opened, the cold mountain air hit me through the glass entrance.

Detective Daniel Pierce was already standing near the security desk, his heavy coat unbuttoned.

“Marcus gave me the flight tail number,” Pierce said.

“We have patrol cars blocking the airport perimeter road.”

“Is Benjamin with the girls?” I asked.

“He is,” Pierce said.

“He refuses to leave their side, but he knows what is happening.”

We walked out into the falling snow.

My boots crunched on the icy pavement of the parking lot.

The sky over Aspen was a dark, bruised purple.

We got into Pierce’s unmarked sedan.

The engine roared to life, and the heater blew dry, dusty air into our faces.

“Vanessa did not work alone,” I said, looking out at the passing pine trees.

“Arthur was just the programmer,” Pierce said.

“There is someone else on that manifest.”

“Who?” I asked.

“Julian Vance,” Pierce said.

“The Chief Financial Officer of Caldwell Systems.”

I stared at the dashboard.