“The transfer is registered,” Reed said over the speaker. “The funds are secure in our holding ledger. He has nothing.”

“Detective Harris?” Arthur asked. “Do your people have him?”

“Riverside units are moving in now,” Harris said. “They’re approaching the property.”

We sat in the silent room, waiting for the final confirmation.

My phone in my hand suddenly buzzed again, but this time it was a direct text from an unknown number.

It was an image file.

I clicked it open.

It was a live photograph of the exterior of the Palm Springs condo, the palm trees silhouetted against the twilight sky.

But in the driveway, there were no police cars.

Instead, there was a black SUV with its headlights off, and the front door of the condo was standing wide open.

I stared at the image on my screen.

The black SUV sat crookedly in the driveway of the Palm Springs condo.

The open front door looked like a dark gash in the white stucco of the building.

“Detective,” I said, my voice shaking as I pushed the phone toward him. “Look at this.”