“I don’t think Chernobiac is violent.” Sophie rammed her clip back into the weapon and stowed it in her harness. “But it is good to be prepared for anything. I’m surprised he hasn’t come out to see who is setting off the motion light.”

“Yes, that concerns me.” Jake peered up at the brightly lit house. There was still no movement from inside. Maybe the guy was glued to his computers. A bomb could go off and gamer dudes like that wouldn’t notice.

“Let’s do this.” Jake got out of the Jeep and slammed the door, wishing they both were wearing Kevlar and had a backup team. “Chernobiac!” Jake called, as they reached the garage. “It’s Jake and Sophie! Come out, we just want to talk.”

No answer.

Jake reached the back door and banged on it. “Chernobiac!”

Jake grasped the handle and turned. Not locked.

He glanced over at Sophie and met her wide eyes. They both drew their weapons. Jake cracked the door and bellowed in his best military voice, “Chernobiac!”

No answer.

Jake pushed the door wide, keeping covered behind the jamb. The back door opened into the brightly lit kitchen.

A pair of feet were visible in the hallway leading off of the kitchen.

Sophie swore from behind him, something long and involved in one of those languages that sounded like water running over stones.

Jake stepped cautiously into the kitchen, weapon ready. “Let’s check the house and then call it in.”

Jake avoided looking at the body for the moment as they split up outside the kitchen, checking each room. The place was empty and undisturbed, looking much as they’d seen it last except for Chernobiac’s plump body, face down, two bullet holes in his back and a blood pool spreading on the linoleum.

“This didn’t happen long ago.” Jake squatted beside the body.

Sophie called in the discovery directly to Freitan as Jake pressed two fingers to the man’s neck, feeling for a pulse. The skin was still warm, and deep inside the extra tissue, Jake felt a sluggish heartbeat.

“He’s still alive!” Jake pulled out his phone and called 911 even as Sophie changed her report to Freitan to include the new information. They waited for the first responders, and it wasn’t long before an ambulance bumped up the driveway.

Jake met the EMTs at the door. “Gunshot wound. Two in the back. Looks bad.”

The paramedics nodded and ran inside.

A few minutes later, Freitan and Wong pulled up. Freitan raked Jake with an irritable glance. “Care to tell us what brought you out here? We thought you were in the observation booth until we went to lock up after the interview and saw you were gone.”

“Just had a gut feeling that Chernobiac and the ditch killer are somehow connected,” Jake said.

“We thought we’d come out and talk to Chernobiac,” Sophie said. “But it looks like someone else got here first. Cypher might have been someone’s loose end, as they say.”

“He was someone’s something, that’s for sure.” Freitan jerked her head at Wong. “Let’s do a quick search. This house is now a crime scene. We might as well use you two since you were out here, poking around. Get some gloves on and let’s get to work.”

Jake and Sophie exchanged a glance. There was no getting away from being roped into helping search at this point, though neither of them expected to find anything—they had tossed the place not long ago, after all, and whoever had tied off the loose end that was Chernobiac had likely taken any evidence he’d had.

“If there was anything, it would be on Chernobiac’s computer.” Sophie headed into the bedroom and called out to them. “It’s gone.” She reemerged. “I don’t know what else might be found here.”

“We need something tying him to the bodies. To something! Or maybe his murder is unrelated,” Wong said, slamming shut a kitchen drawer in frustration.

“Unlikely.” Freitan lifted a piece of carpet to examine the floor below. “I think Chernobiac has something to do with the missing persons, and now we’ve found some of them in the ditch. Who put them there? That’s what we’ve got to find out.”

“The next people to interview should be Webb and Rayme,” Sophie said, as the four of them ransacked Chernobiac’s living room in a replay of a few days ago. “I think those two might know something about this.”

“What could they possibly know? They are barely functioning tweakers,” Wong said. “We talked to them. They seem like opportunistic bottom feeders, rolling tourists for drug money.”

Sophie glanced at Jake, and catching her cue, he groped to explain the idea that had been forming and had brought them out on this call.

“Here’s a scenario,” Jake said. “I just want us to try it on for size. So, here’s how it goes: Webb and Rayme identify marks. People who have resources and can be shaken down. They are in cahoots with someone who does the killing, after Webb and Rayme turn them loose in the ditch area. The killer does his thing—or, Rayme and Webb are the killers, and the story Julie Weathersby is telling is made up for some reason. This guy has some connection to the Changs.” Jake straightened, dangling a potato chip bag between his fingertips. “Stay with me for a minute. It just seems way too handy that Terence Chang happened along to rescue Julie Weathersby. Maybe he’s the killer and decided not to off her? I don’t know. But I do know that anytime you have a crime empire, you’ve got people who need to be gotten rid of. Dealers who rip you off. Suppliers who take bribes. Meth makers who sample the merch.” Jake dropped the empty bag into a nearby trash can and tipped his head back to stare at the swirly drywall markings on the ceiling and scratched his chin, considering. “Chernobiac either gets wind of this operation, or is a part of it. He shakes down the families of the missing for ransom or reward money. He deflects them with misinformation and keeps them busy and occupied. Meanwhile, the bodies are hidden in the ditch, buried in the jungle, wherever. I suspect you’re going to find a lot more in that area in the coming weeks.”

Jake looked around at the detectives and Sophie. Everyone had paused in the search and was staring right back. Even Freitan was paying attention. “Anyway, things start to come apart when pretty little Julie Weathersby gets away from our killer or is spared, whichever it is. For whatever reason, maybe because she’s a pretty face, or doesn’t fit the profile, or maybe will draw too much heat . . . crime family heir apparent Terence Chang rescues her. He comes up smelling like a rose, which could be part of his agenda.”

Freitan planted her fists on her hips. “That’s a pretty shaky theory. Where’s the motive? What would we need to make it all hang together?”

“Well, we already have a pile of possible trophies from the back of Chernobiac’s computer. Where did he get those? Who are they from? If we could match them to the bodies or the missing, we’d have a better idea of what his role was. But he had those items and the cash we saw. He posted that ad, ran that website, and was soliciting families of the missing. He had some part, I’m sure of it. And someone tried to kill him for it,” Jake said.

“I could find out what his role was if I had his computer,” Sophie said. “I tried to copy his hard drive when we were here last, but I didn’t have time to get the whole thing, and I haven’t had time to go through any of the data I’ve collected. Rather than take more time for this search, I’d like to go back to the station and do what I do best, which is dig for background information. Maybe I can make a connection between the missing and the physical descriptions from the bodies, get a preliminary guess at their identities by cross-checking dates on which people disappeared with the recovered bodies. And if I could identify the bodies, even approximately, I could look for connections between them and the Changs. There might even be something useful I can get off the partial information I have from Chernobiac’s hard drive.”

“Do it.” Freitan flicked a hand at Sophie. “We’ll bring Jake back. Get out of here, computer girl, and find us a thread that ties all this altogether.”