“A homeless man begging for change.”

Sasha sighed. “I see hunger, despair. Someone who has given up on life.”

She pushed away from the building, and they crossed the street to the man she was talking about. When she reached him, she leaned down. “Are you hungry?” she asked him.

His eyes tracked her with caution, his gaze shifted to Avery.

“Yeah.”

Sasha handed him the bag holding her uneaten hamburger. She then said something in Russian before standing up and leading Avery away.

“This woman,” Sasha said as they walked by yet another homeless person. “What do you see?”

Avery suddenly felt like she was being walked through a living documentary of the human existence. “Mental illness to the extreme.”

Sasha again stopped and looked behind them. “The woman is ill, but also on something. What did you smell when you walked by?”

“Body odor.”

They kept walking.

When Sasha slowed her pace, Avery searched out the next demographic. Two guys sat on a fence, smoking a cigarette. They were both thin, drawn.

“On drugs,” Avery said before Sasha could ask her.

“Homeless?”

“Probably.”

“How much do you know about drugs?”

Avery smirked. “I know not to take them.”

Sasha looked out of the corner of her eye at her, disapproving.

“My rebellion included a little pot and a lot of teenage drinking,” Avery clarified.

“But you had access to other things.”

“Yeah, of course. What kid doesn’t?”

They started across the street toward the boys.

“Do you know anyone who had a more experimental rebellion?”

“No one I was close to. There were always those that got hooked on something stupid in high school, early college. Snorted their tuition money up their nose. I blew my tuition on Cancun.”

Sasha chuckled and marched right up to the kids. “Gentlemen?” She managed to get their full attention with one word and a smile. “I was wondering if you could help me out.”

One of the kids sitting on the iron fence slid off, pulled himself up straight with a jerk, and nodded. “I can help you with whatever you need.”

He was definitely high, but he was hetero and liked what he saw, Avery observed.

“I need to know if you’ve seen someone.”

Avery stood back and watched the kids.

Neither of them could hold their hands still. One realized he was twitchy and slammed his hands into his back pockets, attempting to keep his eyes on Sasha.

“Yeah, hey . . . we see people walk by every day.”

Sasha pulled a picture out of her back pocket, but before she showed it to the kids, she said, “Twenty bucks each, to the both of you, if you tell me the truth. You lie, you get nothing.”

“Yeah, lady. Okay. I could use twenty bucks.”

The image of Avery’s sketched suspect sat in Sasha’s hands.

The guys looked at it.

Sasha watched the kids.

Avery saw everyone.

“That could be anyone,” the kid on her right said. “I wanna say I have, but I don’t know.”

“And you?” She moved the picture closer to the second kid.

He shook his head.

“What about this?” Spider’s tattoo was in the next picture.

Both of them shook their heads.

Sasha stashed the pictures and handed them the money.

“They’re just going to buy more drugs,” Avery said as they walked away.

Sasha shrugged. “Until they hit bottom or die.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Twenty bucks won’t change their course.”

“That’s cold,” Avery said.

“Truth often is. Come on.”

When they had circled back to Times Square, Avery finally stopped Sasha’s pace by grabbing her arm and turning her around. “Much as I liked the garbage-filled path through the decay of the homeless population, was there a point to what just happened?”

People walked around the two of them like they were rocks in a stream while they talked.

“Spider is young, agile. New shoes, old clothes. If he’s homeless, he wasn’t for long before you. His clothing, while worn, did not smell like Homeless Man Number One. Spider completed a task and spoke coherently, so not like Homeless Woman Number Two. Homeless Examples Three and Four, once hooked on something much stronger than what they can afford now, is who we are searching for. Two for twenty couldn’t stop moving. They wash their hands because of nerves and because their veins itch with need. They only stop at the peak of their high or when they are too sick to move during their low. They spend the majority of their day searching for means to maintain their level of stupid. Junkies don’t spend money on tattoos, so our guy was new to the game.”

Avery felt a rush from Sasha’s words.

“We know for a fact Krueger’s day job was selling drugs, and his night job was taking out kneecaps or putting people in the morgue. My father paid Krueger to kill you. In turn, Krueger paid your Spider to do the job. Why? Because Krueger sees an opportunity to get paid for a job without the risk of going to jail for it. Spider’s rapid descent makes him say yes. He knocks you down, hesitates, then uses his feet. Why? Because his hands would be too personal. Even though he’s higher than a rocket to the space station, he knows somewhere that what he is doing is wrong. ‘Don’t look at me.’ His words. Not because he doesn’t want you to see him, but so he won’t see your eyes.”

Avery ran a hand through her hair. Everything Sasha was saying made sense in a twisted, fucked-up way. “So I’ve wasted my time searching nightclubs.”

“No. Not entirely. You know where he isn’t. We know he isn’t in jail. What did I say about Homeless Men Three and Four?”

Avery had to think for a minute. “That they would buy drugs until they hit rock bottom or die.” Jesus . . . was she chasing a dead man?

“We stop searching clubs and start searching rehabs and morgues.”

Avery held a staring contest with Sasha. “You knew all of this before we sat down to eat, didn’t you?”

“I suspected. Between what you’ve told me and what the police have found . . . or more importantly, haven’t found, I’ve drawn my conclusions.”

“Then why waste time with all of this?” Avery waved her hands around her, as if including the entire city in her argument.

Sasha stepped closer, her face nothing but harsh lines of sobriety. “Because you need to learn who this man is on your own so you can accept whatever it is that we find. Me telling you who we are looking for will always raise doubt in your head.”

Avery sighed, ran the back of her hand against her chin. God, she was tired. With a deep breath, she asked, “Okay. Where do we start?”

Sasha stepped back. “Tomorrow.”

“But—”

“You need to eat again and sleep. Warriors only enter a battle rested and fed.”

Avery glanced at the tattoo on her arm and resigned. “Okay.”

Sasha glanced behind Avery. “Take her back to the hotel. I will call on you in the morning.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Avery turned around so fast her head spun. “Liam.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Liam had to force a smile to his face.

He’d been tracking Sasha’s location via Reed since he landed. He dropped a bag off at Avery’s hotel and taxied to Times Square. Having never been to New York before, he found himself turned around more than once while GPS tangled with the tall buildings and sometimes had him on the wrong side of the street.

The two of them walked into his line of sight, and Liam stopped behind Avery right as Sasha described Avery’s attacker. Even though he stood right there, Sasha’s eyes never left Avery.

Slowly, as Sasha’s conclusion settled in Avery’s head, Liam noticed her entire posture sink. For a brief moment, he thought she might just slump to the ground right in the middle of Times Square.

Now Avery was staring at him, and they were the clog of traffic as people walked by.

Eyes hollow, lips swollen . . . Liam reached out and traced a hand to the bruise on her cheek. His simple touch and she closed the gap between them and pressed her face to his chest.

“I’m sorry,” she choked out.

Liam wrapped his arms around her and buried his head in her hair. “It’s okay.”

“I was such a child.”

“It’s okay, Princess.”

She hugged him tighter.

Liam closed his eyes and held her. “I’ll get her back—” He glanced up and Sasha was gone.

Avery disengaged long enough to look around.

“Where did she go?”

Avery shook her head. “I’m sure she’ll be back.”

Liam brushed a hair behind her ear and cradled her cheek in his hand. So many words needed to be said . . . instead, he brushed his lips against hers.

She kissed him back with a sigh.

“C’mon. Let’s get you back to the hotel.”

Liam kept an arm around her and signaled for a taxi.

Thirty minutes later they were in her room and he’d ordered room service.

“I had to come to New York,” Avery started.

“I know that. You have me now, you didn’t need to come alone.”