From what I knew of troll business practices, running a trace was second nature, even though there were few people around foolish enough to renege on a deal with them.

“We’ll expect a call by midnight then,” Ceri said.

“Yeah, sure. Can I get up now? My back is really killing me.”

Guy raised an eyebrow at me. When I nodded, he motioned Moe and Curly. The two ogres undid the ropes then climbed to their feet, but kept close to the trolls as they did the same. The troll with the torn ear did several back stretches. Bones cracked into the silence.

Ceri pushed to her feet. She was tall enough that she didn’t actually have to tilt her head too far up to meet the troll’s gaze. “You got a business card, troll?”

He muttered something unpleasant, but dug into the pocket of his overalls and handed us both a card. Ramjets Investigations, it said. Problems solved. Professionalism guaranteed. I glanced down at the name on the bottom of the card.

“Xavier?” I couldn’t help saying. “Really?”

“Ma was working her way through the alphabet,” the troll said. “And it’s better than Winifred.” He cast a sympathetic glance at his companion.

I wasn’t so sure about that. I shifted away from the fridge and picked up a card from the stack sitting on nearby dresser. “Here’s our card. Make sure you phone us after you talk to the man who employed you for this job.”

“But what do I tell him?” He eyed me with uncertainty. “It’s not like we actually succeeded, and telling him we did wouldn’t be right.”

Ceri snorted. “And yet it was right to accept a job to break in here?”

“That’s different. That’s money.” He glanced back at me. “Taking money for a job not completed is bad for business.”

“Trust me, the elf you’re talking about won’t raise any waves for you over not getting the job done. He can’t afford to.”

He didn’t look convinced. “So I just say we got what he wanted and arrange a meet?”

“Yes. And then you ring me and let me know where that meeting is. I’ll turn up in your stead.”

“And the money?”

“Consider it an incentive not to come back here,” Ceri said.

The troll still looked dubious. I waved a hand toward the front door, and Moe and Curly escorted them out.

Guy glanced at his watch. “Whoops, the footy is on.”

He quickly disappeared. Ceri shook her head then glanced at me. “Your father might not make waves for the trolls, but I’m betting he’ll raise hell for you. Especially if you’re intending to confront him. Which you are, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” I grimaced. “I really have no choice. Like it or not, he is my dad, and my mum would haul me over the coals if I didn’t give him the opportunity to explain.”

“Your mum doesn’t have to know.”

I snorted. “Mum knows everything when it comes to my father, even if it’s been nearly years since they’ve been together.”

Ceri’s expression remained concerned. “You want me to come along?”

“No. He won’t talk if you’re there.” Hell, he mightn’t talk when it was just me there. I opened the fridge and pulled out the makings of a sandwich. “You want one?”

Ceri shook her head. “I’ve got to get ready for another night of tailing.”

“Really? Why? I thought we had enough proof.”

“I think she wants indefensible proof. As in, something mid-coitus.” She grimaced. “It’s money, as you said, but it somehow feels dirty to get pics of him in action.”

I wondered what she’d think of all the shots Mona had collected of—the thought stilled as something else occurred to me. The trolls had come here to collect memory cards, cameras, and photos, from downstairs, but not the computers or anything else that was upstairs? That didn’t make any sense. And besides, my father wasn’t likely to rely on just the trolls—he couldn’t afford to.

Meaning maybe, just maybe, the trolls had been a diversion. The ogres certainly wouldn’t have noticed someone else slipping into the house when they had the trolls to contend with. Fuck, I thought, and raced up stairs.

The computers were all present, the safe appeared untouched, and the photocopies of the images Val had drawn were still on my desk. I didn’t immediately relax, just walked over to my computer and hit the start button.

Ceri came up the stairs carrying my sandwich and a coffee for herself. “What did you remember?”

“That my father is a sneaky bastard.” And the computer wasn’t firing up.

I checked all the cords were connected, then rose, walked across to Ceri’s desk, and hit the power button on her computer. It also didn’t fire up.

“What the hell?” She placed the plate and cup on the desk, then checked the cords. “It’s connected, so it should start.”

“Unless it’s been tampered with.” I lifted the box. It was light. Too light. “He’s ripped out the fucking hard drives.”

Ceri snorted. “Why would he bother doing that? Why not take the whole bloody box?”

I glanced at the window. It was open. “Maybe he just wanted the give the illusion that everything was untouched. Maybe he intends to erase and return them.”

Ceri frowned. “He could have erased them here.”

“It takes a while to erase drives that large. He might not have wanted to risk it.” As I looked around some more, I realized there were two damn cameras missing, too. Not my good ones, thankfully, as I tended to keep them locked away.

“Well, if they are going to return them—and I seriously doubt they’d bother—it might be better if I stayed.”

“Trolls won’t fit through that window, so it’ll probably be someone human. Them I can cope with.”

I hope, I added fervently. After all, I’d never really used my fighting skills, and it had been a long time since I’d practiced against anyone.

She looked doubtful. “You sure? As you just noted, you father is a sneaky bastard-”

“You need to get that mid-coitus photo.” I grabbed my sandwich and headed back to my desk. “Paying customers have to come first.”

“I guess.” She sighed, then cocked her head sideways. “I think that was the doorbell.”

I glanced at my watch and saw it was close to seven. “That’ll be Lyle.”

“You should make the old bastard pay for our computers if we don’t get them back,” she said. “It’s his fault they were swiped in the first place.”

“If we don’t get them back, I will.” Sandwich in hand, I made my way back down the stairs and opened the door for Lyle.

He didn’t look good. He leant against the wall, arms crossed and face more haggard then usual. He’d torn off the band-aids Maggie had applied earlier, but her colorful salves still covered his skin, and mixed garishly with the purple bruising beginning to appear.

“You obviously need coffee,” I said, and stood to one side.

“You can take your coffee and shove it somewhere unpleasant. I want a proper drink, and it had better be a triple.” He walked toward the living room, made a face when he spotted the ogres, then continued on to the kitchen. “It’s been that sort of day.”

Something of an understatement given his day had started with him being bashed by trolls, and had ended with the discovery his missing girlfriend was more than likely dead. Still, I didn’t really want to offer booze to someone who was the closest thing to an alcoholic as elves could ever get.

“I think a coffee-”

“Don’t start telling me what I should and shouldn’t be fucking drinking, Harriet. You’re not my fucking wife.”

No, just someone who stupid enough to care about the old sod. “Lyle-”

“Do I have to walk down the road to the pub and buy my own?”

“Fine,” I muttered, and raided the stash of top-shelf alcohol I’d hidden from the ogres in the laundry.

“What’s with the ogres? Haven’t they got a home of their own?” He accepted the glass with a tight smile, downed it in in one gulp, then reached for the bottle.

I clenched my hand against the urge to whip the whisky out of his reach. “I’ve got a big screen. They haven’t.”

“In that case, remind me never to get a big screen.” He poured himself another generous glass. “I’ve just come back from the Sandridge police station. Had to ID Mona.”

“So it was her?” I didn’t have much doubt that it was after talking to Darryl, but there was always the slight chance he’d been wrong.

“Yeah.” There was a haunted, desperate look in Lyle's eyes. He downed the second glass just as fast as the first, the added, “She’d been strangled, Harriet. Strangled and raped.”

Horror crawled through me. Rape was a crime of power, not passion. Whoever had murdered Mona had made damn sure before she’d died that she knew who was in charge.

Goosebumps crawled across my arms, despite the heat in the house. I’d like to think that neither Bramwell nor Gilroy were capable of such a despicable act, but the truth was, I just didn’t know them well enough to be sure.

“I’m sorry, Lyle.”

The old elf nodded, and said, voice fierce, “I’m going to find him, Harriet. You know that, don’t you?”

“We’ll find him together.” There was no point in warning him not to do anything stupid. Not while he was in this sort of mood. “What else did they say?”

“Nothing much. If they have any DNA evidence, they’re not saying.”

If Kaij was in charge of the investigation, that wasn’t surprising. “Do you think you can get an ID check on the driver of the car you spotted?”

Lyle nodded, but didn’t elaborate. He just poured himself more alcohol. “I talked to the air traffic controller. It’s a dead end.”