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“Great,” Rami mumbles. “Darling, did you find anything of relevance in those files?”
“No. But in his calendar for the last two months, he had a weekly appointment with a patient: Detective Diaz.”
“That’s one of the detectives working on the Rope Killer case,” I say.
“Did you check his file?” Rami asks her.
“There’s no file for Detective Diaz.”
“Why didn’t the detective say anything about his relationship with the victim?” My mind is going back to the times I met the detective. I don’t recall anything unusual. He was very professional. But although I’ve met him several times, I can’t recall his face well. He’s one of those people you forget about the moment they leave.
“Serena, I want everything on Detective Diaz. A full background,” Rami orders her.
“On it.”
My phone starts ringing; the name on the screen says it’s Rague.
“How? I don’t have his number,” I say, confused.
“You have all our numbers,” Rami tells me. “Just answer it.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “We need to talk about boundaries, Mister.”
“Rague,” I say into the phone.
“Hey Michael, can you get Raph, please?”
“Raph isn’t here,” I tell him, a sinister feeling stiffening my spine. I push the speaker button. Rami needs to hear this.
“No? He left an hour ago.” Rague confirms my ominous feeling.
“Was he coming directly here?” Rami asks his brother.
“He was going to Michael’s place to get a few things.”
“Things?” I don’t know what he could possibly want from my apartment.
“His phone goes straight to voicemail,” Rami says. “Serena, find Raph’s cell.”
“Tracking Raph’s phone.”
“I’m in my car, not far from your place. I’ll go check it out,” Rague lets me know.
“Thank you. We should go too.” I turn to Rami.
He nods, but then Serena replies, “Raph’s phone is off. Do you want me to use his physical tracker to find him?”
“Physical tracker?” I stop my pacing to look at Rami.
“He has a small tracker behind his ear. We all have one.” He moves his lobe and I see a small bump under his skin. Why do they have a tracker? Who is this family? Some kind of military spy team?
“Use it.” Rague’s gruff voice makes me nod in agreement.
“Hold, please.” It takes Serena a few seconds, but then she says, “He’s on Cicero Avenue, inside the Brach’s abandoned candy factory.”
“What the fuck?” I hear Rague swear. “On my way there. I’ll call the others.” He hangs up.
“What is going on?” I ask Rami. “Why is he in an abandoned factory?”
