Zoe is a delight to be around. Brad already liked her from their zoo adventure, and day-to-day she’s just as sweet, polite and adorable. Her mother drops her off the morning after the bedroom is finished. Right away, Brad sees why Damien fell hard for Idil. She is stunning, a little taller than Damien in her high-heeled shoes, and even Brad can recognize her poise, honed by years on the catwalk. Her skin is darker than Zoe’s, a beautiful, warm bronze-brown, but other than that Zoe is her in miniature, especially when they smile at each other during their goodbyes. Idil is polite to Brad, and formal but not unfriendly with Damien. Brad guesses that Damien prepared her for the presence of a new lover, which surprises Brad. With a stab of shame, he realizes that he’d been ready for this meeting to be awkward. He’s not giving Damien enough credit for having his life under control.

Brad and Zoe don’t see much of each other for the first couple of days. When he gets to work he picks up the phone to the report of a double homicide, which takes him and Eric deep into a complex, gang-related case that Vice are happy to have their help with. He barely comes up for air for the next few days, returning to the penthouse only to catch a few hours’ sleep. Brad had planned to start looking into the Vivienne business, but that also has to wait now.

On his third day on the case they have a breakthrough. Eric and Brad are present for the raid on a drug den in Harlem that finally produces the murder suspect. It’s a long day, and there’s still enough paperwork to complete for a week, but since it’s Vice’s case Brad and Eric will only be marginally involved in the messy wrap-up.

Brad arrives home at one a.m. to voices still audible upstairs. Quietly, so as not to wake Zoe, he climbs the stairs. He finds Rose and Damien in the living room.

“You burning the midnight oil?” he asks as he goes over to the sofa to give Damien a kiss. “Something happened?”

Rose and Damien exchange a look. Damien moves to make space on the sofa. “Sit down, and we’ll tell you.”

Brad sits, bemused. Rose picks up her phone from the coffee table and taps it a few times. Then she holds it out to Brad. He takes it.

On the screen is a photo of Vivienne. It’s a selfie on her Instagram account. Brad doesn’t use any of that stuff himself. PD regulations don’t forbid it, but there are many rules to follow, and he doesn’t see the point in trying to navigate a minefield just to put his private life out on display. The people he wants to talk to are all in his phone book.

But he has a fair understanding of social media. Eric, among his many other talents, is a bit of a tech wizard, and goes on every course he can find that the Detective Bureau will pay for, about how criminals make use of new technologies.

Brad studies the photo. Vivienne smiles a coy smile, her head tilted to one side. Why that is attractive Brad doesn’t understand, but a good forty thousand people have liked the picture so far. Her smile gives Brad the creeps.

But he does know that the background of the picture looks familiar. “That’s downstairs,” he says, staring at Damien.

Damien nods. “Yeah. And look here…” He points at a few words on the screen, right below Vivienne Aubert. It’s the name of Damien’s street. Brad stares at the phone, incredulous. “That’s called a geotag,” Damien says. “You can add it to your picture on IG. And this…” He taps the screen hard, right on Vivienne’s face. iamdamienthomas appears on the picture, above Vivienne and beneath the house number that’s visible above the entrance. “That’s my Instagram account. She tagged me in the photo.”

Brad looks at the phone for another moment, until the screen switches to battery saving mode and goes dark. He hands it back to Rose. “Let me get this straight,” he says hoarsely. “She posted your address on her account and tagged you in it?”

Damien nods, looking miserable. Brad shakes his head. “Why?” he demands. “And when did she take the photo? Was she here today?”

Damien shrugs. “Not that I saw. But a whole bunch of fans sure as fuck were.”

“What?!” Brad exclaims, and Damien flinches at his angry voice.

“They were waiting when we came back from looking at Zoe’s preschool,” Rose says. “Damien distracted them while I took Zoe inside. But they weren’t satisfied with just a selfie and an autograph each. When I checked an hour after Damien finally got away they were still there. Or maybe another bunch, I don’t know.”

“Did you call the police?” Brad asks. “There are no fans down there now.”

“We did,” Rose says. “They said they’d have the patrols pass through every so often and ask people to move on. They didn’t seem very surprised. Maybe this happens in Manhattan sometimes.”

“I guess it does,” Brad says. He’s thinking about what to do next. “I’ll text Eric before bed. He can get his little gray cells working on it overnight. Eric’s my partner,” he adds in explanation for Rose. “He’s kind of a genius.” Then he turns to Damien, who’s sunk in on himself on the sofa. “Your head hurting?” he asks and puts a hand on Damien’s neck.

Damien nods. “Yeah.” Brad massages the base of his skull and Damien sighs, closing his eyes.

“Why don’t you go to bed?” Brad suggests. “It’s really late. I’ll clear up.” There are a few mugs and glasses on the coffee table, and the usual clutter of living with a child.

Damien nods, looking exhausted. “Thanks. Will do.” He gets up laboriously and gives Rose a wave. “Night.”

“I’ll be there soon,” Brad says, patting Damien’s thigh as he passes him. “And take some Maxalt.”

“Good idea.” Damien’s walk is a little unsteady as he makes for the staircase, and Brad has to fight the urge to get up and help.

“He’s really shaken up,” Rose says, and Brad turns back to her. “He was charming and sweet with the fans, and he played with Zoe when he came upstairs. But I could tell it scared him.”

“You should’ve called me,” Brad says. He stacks glasses and mugs to take them through to the kitchen. Rose starts to put away Zoe’s coloring books and pens. Then she follows Brad into the kitchen.

“I know. I’m sorry, I didn’t think of it. And I guess he didn’t want to bother you.”

“Well, he should have, and he knows it,” Brad says, trying not to let his irritation show. He puts the crockery into the dishwasher then turns to Rose. “Have you met Vivienne?”

“Once, at that fundraiser. I saw you there, too. Damien was so upset.” She grimaces. “Did you know she just turned up for that? She came here to collect him, like he’d invited her. I guess, in her head, he had.” Her gaze is troubled now. “There’s something not right with her, Brad. I can’t put my finger on it, but what she did today, that’s not something you do accidentally. I think she’s got some kind of vendetta.”

Brad nods. “I think you’re right. I’ll see what we can do about it, I promise.” He thinks about Nate’s typed-up report sitting at the bottom of his in-tray.

“Good!” Rose says with emphasis, jolting Brad from his thoughts. “About time. And it’s also about time I got going.” She returns to the living room to collect her bag. Brad follows her as she climbs down the stairs. He turns off the lights as they go, then opens the door for her in the light from a small lamp that’s glowing on the wall. They’ve started leaving it on so Zoe can find her way if she wants to come to them at night.

As Rose puts on her coat, Brad asks, “How was Zoe with all this?”

Rose shrugs. “A little bemused. She’s so used to the celebrity hubbub it doesn’t faze her much. And we got her away from the fans before it got really weird. She’s a doll.” Rose smiles. “Damien has asked me to increase my hours and help look after her when she’s here.”

“That’s great,” Brad says. “A bit of help will take a load off him. And thanks for taking care of them today.”

“No problem. Goodnight!”

When Brad closes the door behind her, he pulls out his cell. He’d better send that text to Eric now. It’s time they got to the bottom of this Vivienne business.