My phone buzzed in Harris’s hand.

He looked down at it.

“Another text from the same number,” Harris said.

He turned the screen toward me.

It was another photograph.

This one was taken from closer range, near the side gate of the condo.

Through the glass window of the living room, I could see the silhouette of a man sitting at the dining table.

The blue light from a laptop screen illuminated his face.

It was Lucas.

He had his head in his hands, his fingers clutching his hair.

“Who is taking these pictures?” Chloe whispered, her voice trembling. “Is someone watching him?”

“Melanie,” I said suddenly.

Arthur looked at me. “Melanie Harper?”

“She told me she wanted justice,” I said. “She said she wouldn’t let him get away with what he did to her career and her name.”

“If she’s there, she’s putting herself in serious danger,” Harris said.

He grabbed his radio again.

“Dispatch, tell those units to expedite,” Harris commanded. “We have a potential confrontation at the scene.”

“Units are turning onto the street now, Detective,” the dispatcher replied.