“So you’re leaving?” he asked.
“Yes. It’s time for a new life.”
“You’re quitting Zelyx, too?”
“It’s already done. I’m out.”
“Where are you going?”
Prisha shrugged. “Somewhere else. Far away.”
He could see in her face that she knew Zara was alive. She knew where her sister was hiding. The two of them were selling the house and making their escape together. They were trying to run from Lombard.
“You won’t be safe no matter where you go,” Frost told her. “Distance won’t protect you.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Prisha replied. “I’ve taken care of everything.”
“How?”
“The situation is complicated, Frost. That’s all I can say.”
He exhaled in frustration. “You’re not going to pretend with me, are you? You know that Zara’s alive. You know what happened at the Embarcadero.”
Prisha made sure the movers were nowhere nearby. She hooded her eyes, and then she gently reached out and touched his elbow. “Of course I do. Zara came directly to me from the station. She wants you to know — we both want you to know — how grateful we are. You saved her life.”
“Then take me to her, and let me talk to her. The only way to keep her safe is to let her go public with what she knows. These people won’t take it on faith that she’ll stay quiet. As long as she’s alive, she’s a threat to them.”
Prisha didn’t say anything immediately. She took his hand and led him out of the house, and they crossed the street to where Frost’s Suburban was parked. She looked up and down Clay Street, which was free of pedestrians. The red dome of the synagogue shone in the sun two blocks away. It was a calm, unusually warm morning, as if summer had jumped ahead of spring in the seasonal lineup.
“I’m sorry, Frost,” Prisha said. “You can’t see Zara, and I can’t tell you where we’re going. That’s part of the deal.”
“The deal?” he asked.
“I made a deal with Lombard.”
“You know about him?”
“Yes. Zara told me everything. Lombard and I worked out a mutually agreeable solution to our problem.”
Frost shook his head. “How did you contact a man that no one can find?”
“Actually, he called me,” Prisha said.
“Lombard called you?”
“He figured Zara would come to me, and he was right.”
“What did he want?” Frost asked.
“To put an end to this. He said that the cruise on Tuesday had gotten out of hand and put everyone in far more jeopardy than was necessary. He wanted to close the book on it once and for all. So we negotiated the terms of Zara’s safety. I’m a lawyer, Frost. Negotiating is what I do, and I’m very good at it. I did a deal that keeps us safe. We all get what we want.”
“You can’t trust him.”
“Deals aren’t done on trust. They’re done on parties acting in their own self-interest. That includes Lombard.”
“What did he offer you for Zara’s silence? Money? That’s how it starts. He gives you money, and you think you’re safe, but you’re not.”
“Zara and I don’t need money,” Prisha replied. “We have far more than we’d ever want. In fact, you have it backward. We purchased our safety.”
“You paid Lombard for your freedom?” Frost said. “You’re kidding yourself if you think that will work. I don’t care how much you gave him. It won’t be enough.”
“No, this is different. I paid Lombard to solve a problem for us. That’s what he does, after all. He’s a fixer.”
“And what did you want him to fix?”
“I told you, it’s complicated.”
“He’ll still kill you both, Prisha,” Frost insisted. “Wherever you go, he’ll track you down.”
“No. He won’t. I’m satisfied that it’s not in his interest to harm us after we leave, because he knows that it’s not in our interest that Zara ever say another word about the cruise on Tuesday or about him. You’ll never see her again. You’ll never see me again. Don’t bother looking for us, because you won’t find us.”
Frost felt a wave of concern. “What did you do, Prisha? Tell me.”
“Really, Frost, it’s better that you not know the details. Zara and I can live with what we’ve done, but I know you couldn’t. You’re too honorable. So it’s time to drop it. Walk away. Zara and I would hate to see you come to any harm. We’re both fond of you.”
“This is a mistake,” he said.
She gave him an uncomfortable smile. “It’s sweet of you to worry about us, but there’s no need. Please don’t hate us when you learn the truth. I know it’s not the choice you’d make, but it’s the best thing for everyone. And now I’m sorry, but I have to say good-bye.”
Prisha dashed across the street with quick little steps. There was a white Jaguar convertible parked in front of the moving van, and she climbed inside. She threw a little wave at Frost, and then she fired up the engine and sped away.
He was pretty sure she was never coming back.
Frost spent the rest of the day investigating Bugatti registrations. Given that it was a multimillion-dollar vehicle, he was surprised at how many there were throughout the state, but California was home to the crazy rich of both Hollywood and Silicon Valley. He pulled the license information on every owner and made a list for follow-up, but there was nothing to suggest that any of the Bugatti drivers was Lombard.
He also checked the mobile records on the phone that had been recovered from Fox’s body, but they led him nowhere. The numbers that the killer had used to communicate with Lombard — which obviously changed every week — all ended at disconnected burner phones.
The operatives were gone, too. Romeo Laredo had vanished and left behind a vacant apartment. So had Luis Moreno.
By the time the clock ticked to midnight, Frost was still at his desk in police headquarters, and he was at a dead end. None of the threads in the case brought him any closer to finding Lombard.
The man was still a mystery, a ghost. He was Moriarty.
Frost rubbed his eyes, which were tired from staring at the brightness of the computer screen. He leaned back in his chair and studied the desk where Trent Gorham had sat. It had already been cleared off, leaving the surface stark and empty. Gorham had spent years conducting a shadow investigation of Lombard, and the only result was to get him killed.
“Easton?” a voice called to him. “You’re still here?”
Captain Hayden filled the doorway of his office. The rest of the detective floor was quiet. The graveyard shift was mostly out on the streets. Hayden waved him inside, and Frost joined him and shut the door. Cyril was there, too, standing behind the captain the way he always did.
“Why don’t you go home,” Hayden told him. “You’re not going to accomplish anything more today. And frankly, you still need to recover. You’re not one hundred percent by a long shot.”
“I’m fine,” Frost replied.
“That wasn’t a suggestion,” Hayden told him.
Frost nodded. “All right.”
“Hey, Easton,” Cyril called to him from the window. His hard-edged voice sounded apologetic. “You know, I really thought Gorham was going to shoot that kid. That’s why I fired. I sure as hell never thought Gorham saw the kid break the neck of that chef.”
“Fox fooled me, too,” Frost said. “And he wasn’t a kid.”
“Well, I’m not happy about how it went down,” Cyril went on. “I wanted you to know that.”
“Okay.”
Hayden nodded at Cyril and then gestured toward the door. “Give me a minute alone with Frost. Warm up the car. I’ll be leaving soon, too.”
“Yes, sir,” Cyril replied.