Symphony of Bones by L.T. Ryan (little bear else holmelund minarik .txt) 📕

and waited until the car came to a complete stop at a red light before he turned to her. “I get pulling strings and trying to control Washington, but murder is going pretty far. They can afford to buy their way out of a lot of legal trouble, but not murder. Why risk it?”

“World domination?”

“According to Anastasia Bolton, they’d be capable of that.”

Cassie watched as the light turned green, and they pulled through the intersection. “Grayson seems terrified. Mannis seems cautious. And Anastasia seems cocky. Even if Apex isn’t the Big Bad they appear to be, they’ve definitely got a lot of hands in a lot of cookie jars.”

Viotto didn’t answer. He was looking in the rearview mirror again. “Don’t look now, but I think we have a tail.”

Cassie stiffened and resisted the urge to turn around. “Seriously?”

“I can’t get a good look at them, but they pulled out after us as soon as we left Anastasia’s building. They never let more than one car between us.” Viotto took a right turn. “I slowed down for that red light, and they changed lanes so they weren’t right behind us.”

“And now they’re following again?”

“Yep.”

“What should we do?”

He took another turn. Checked the rearview mirror. Eased up on the gas. “If we try to lose them, we won’t find out who they are. That could end up being even more dangerous down the line. If we head to the crime scene, we might come face to face with them, but I don’t like the idea of putting you in danger.”

“If they know I’m involved, I’d feel much better being with you than possibly taking this back home.”

“Crime scene it is, then.”

Viotto kept to the speed limit as they made their way to the parking garage. They’d agreed it would be safer to look for clues there, since the primary focus had been on the alleyway. If the killer had made a mistake, it’d be in or around the car.

When they crested the small incline that led to the fifth level, an FBI agent was waiting for them. Viotto raised a hand, and when he got a thumbs up in response, he shifted the car into park, then twisted around and scanned the garage.

“See anything?” Cassie asked.

“No.” He righted himself and popped open the door. “If I were them, I’d lie low until we left and start following again. I’m not sure what their intention is, but the fact that they’re hanging back tells me they’re more interested in observing than intimidating us.”

“Good to know.”

His smile was reassuring. “Catching them on our way out is going to be our best bet. As far as they think, we have no idea they’re following us.”

“Or so we hope.”

He winked. “Or so we hope.”

Cassie followed Viotto under the police tape and up to the side of Connor Grayson’s Mercedes. It was a sleek car—obviously expensive—and yet the killer had no interest in stealing it.

Viotto must’ve been thinking the same thing. “The window was broken, but nothing was stolen as far as we could tell. Connor’s laptop was still inside, and his bag had been dumped into the backseat.”

“Was there anything on the laptop? Anything in his bag?”

“The laptop was clean. Nothing suspicious there, or we would’ve grabbed Grayson a lot sooner. I think he kept that information on his dad separate from his computer, so it was easier to hide and transport. There was nothing else in his bag.”

“And they never found the car keys, which means the killer probably took them.”

“Probably, but not definitely.” He pointed to the driver’s side door. “Stand over there for a second.”

She did as she was told. “Now what?”

“Pretend you’re Connor. I’m the shooter.” He mimed holding a gun as he came up to her. “If the shooter approached you here, rather than in the alleyway, what would you do?”

Cassie took in her surroundings. It was an open-air parking garage. A cool breeze washed over her, and she could see the city skyline just beyond the wall. “I’d want to distract him to escape. If he was after the car keys, I’d throw them, then run in the opposite direction.”

“Which would explain why we never found the keys, but the window was smashed open.” Viotto looked at the parking lot around them. “But we searched this area, top to the bottom. The keys weren’t here.”

“Someone could’ve taken them.” Cassie looked back out at the view. A lightbulb went off. “Or he threw them where the shooter would never be able to find them.”

Viotto followed her gaze, and the two of them rushed over to the outside wall of the parking garage. They were on the fifth level, and when Cassie looked straight down, her head swam before she found her legs again.

She expected to see straight down to the ground, but instead, she was face-to-face with metal netting that surrounded the entire building. Whether they were for catching leaves or keeping people from jumping, she didn’t know. It didn’t matter.

A pair of car keys for a Mercedes-Benz hung from one of the rods.

Viotto had spotted it, too. “That has to be a one in a million chance.”

“Connor must’ve thrown the keys and run. The shooter figured they were gone, so he went after Connor instead.”

“Give me a hand?”

Viotto didn’t wait for Cassie to reply. He hauled himself up onto the railing and leaned as far over as possible to grab the keys. She grabbed onto his belt to keep him from tipping over, and a few seconds later, he was holding up the keys with a huge grin on his face.

“Now we know the killer didn’t have the keys.” He pulled out a plastic bag and dropped them inside. “After he killed Connor, the shooter must’ve come back. He broke the car window, then searched through the bag.”

“What about the car alarm?”

Viotto shrugged. “Depends on when he went through the car. If no one was around, he’d have enough time to search the car and leave.”

“He was looking for the