“She means Sean,” Davis said as he walked into the kitchen, phone still in hand. “He’s the executive in charge of their case. He comes by once a month. But he didn’t send anyone last night.”

“Easy enough for someone to say Sean had sent him,” I said.

Gabrielle, who’d been following the conversation, shook her head. “Uh-uh. He has to know the secret word.”

I looked at Davis.

“It’s a code,” he said after a moment. “The Dahls trust Sean. Only Sean. Anyone bringing a message from him has to use the right code. You’re asking the wrong questions.”

He crouched beside Gabrielle. “Tell me about that room you were in. It’s for Larsen, isn’t it? In case someone comes to get him.”

When she looked confused, Cassandra murmured, “Her parents wouldn’t tell her that. It would frighten her.” She looked at the girl. “Is it for storms? Earthquakes?”

Gabrielle nodded.

“And your parents told you to go in it last night? Only you?”

“It’s supposed to be for me and Larsen, but Mr. Nast’s men said they needed to take Larsen into the city. Mommy told them I was sleeping at my friend’s house. Then she put me in the room and said when they were gone, I was supposed to come out and call the special number.”

“What special number, hon?” I asked.

She took a dirty piece of paper from her pocket. In big, thick letters, it spelled out a phone number.

“I was supposed to call when it was quiet,” she said. “But I couldn’t really tell if it was quiet, so I waited, and then I heard people in the house, so I waited some more and then I dropped the flashlight and it broke, and I couldn’t see, and the door wouldn’t open and—” She took a deep hiccupping breath as tears trickled down her cheeks. She wiped them away. “Mommy said if anything went wrong, not to worry because you’d come.”

“We’d come?”

She nodded. “She said when she didn’t call today, someone would come. That’s you.”

Cassandra looked at Davis. “What exactly is the child-rearing agreement with the Nasts?”

“That the Dahls get Larsen until he’s eighteen,” Davis said. “After that, they can continue to act as his family and guardians.”

“But the Cabal can’t”—she glanced at the girl—“recruit him until he’s eighteen.”

Davis nodded.

So the Dahls built the hole for the children, in case the Nasts ever tried to take Larsen early. They were to hide in there and phone for help, probably extended family. If the Dahls didn’t make their daily check-in call, that person would come looking for the children. Except when someone from the Cabal did come, saying they were from Sean, it caught the Dahls off guard. They couldn’t hide Larsen in time. Just Gabrielle.

“I’m supposed to tell you what happened,” Gabrielle said. “Then you can help Mommy and Daddy and Larsen.”

“That’s what we’re going to do,” Cassandra said.

twenty-seven

We had Gabrielle tell us exactly what happened last night. Someone had come to the door. A man. He said Tom and

Gale—the guards, whom Gabrielle knew as the driver and gardener—were outside with the dogs, making sure no one saw them leaving. He said they had reason to believe another “cattle” was coming for Larsen, so they needed to get him into L.A.

How did they get in and out without setting off the alarms? Clearly someone had tampered with the equipment, meaning it was an inside job.

Sean, though? Definitely not. But it had to be someone close to him, close enough to get the code word and convince the Dahls that Sean had sent the message that another Cabal was after Larsen.

When Davis called it in, he’d said he was taking Gabrielle to Sean. Since Sean was the executive in charge of the Dahls, the Cabal couldn’t argue with that. Nor could they argue with getting the little girl out of the house before the crime scene team arrived to retrieve the dead guards and dogs from the tree out back.

Sean and Lucas were still in their meeting when we left the Dahl house. As I was hanging up after leaving a message, I saw that I had a few text messages on my new phone. The last was from Adam. Two words. Call me.

I stared at the message. I started dialing his number. I got halfway through, stopped, stared at it some more . . .

“Adam called, I presume?” Cassandra said from the seat beside me. Gabrielle was up front with Davis.

“Texted.” I began typing a response instead. Stopped. Erased it.

“Do you want my advice?”

I nodded.

I called Adam.

“Just got your message,” I said. “In a hurry for an update, huh? Is Paige pestering you? Or are you just bored?”

“Not really. I—”

“You’re bored. Hey, you had your chance. Now you’re stuck in that chair until I get back.”

Before he could answer, I told him what we’d found so far. When he tried to change the subject, I wouldn’t let him. I wasn’t ready to talk about what I said before I left and I certainly wasn’t going to discuss it over the phone. I kept chattering about the case until he surrendered, and helped me work through the possibilities.

When the topic threatened to reach an end, I said, “Whoops, gotta run. Cass and I need to figure out what to do with Gabrielle until Sean can take her.”

“Hold on. Before you go—”

“I really have to—”

“I’m not going to talk about anything you don’t want me talking about, Savannah.”

“There’s nothing—”

“I get the hint, okay? All personal stuff is on hold until you get back. But I wanted you to know that Hope is meeting with Kimerion today.”

“So she agreed to that?”

“Luckily I’d asked her before the Jaz incident. Now Karl wants to get it over with so Hope can rest. He’s going to be there and Benicio’s going to be there, along with Benicio’s top demon negotiator. Do you want us to wait until you’re back so you can sit in?”

“I’m good. I’ll call tonight. And I’ll try to remember the time difference.”

“Forget the time. Call whenever you can.” A pause. “I know this has been hard on you. When you came back, I didn’t mean to make it worse by . . .”