“I’ve got something about Balthasar, where he’s staying now.”

We all looked up as Juliet pulled off her headset.

Luc rose from his spot at the head of the table. “Talk to me, Jules.”

“Our guard did a very good job. She went to the real-estate company, flirted with one of the account managers, bought him drinks. He loosened up, told her about Balthasar.” She looked down at the notepad in her hand. “He gave the manager some malarkey about how he wasn’t satisfied with the amenities in the old place. Requested another condo specifically.”

“Oh, really?” Luc said. “Where’d he go?”

“The penthouse in the Palisade Building.” That was one of the glass high-rises along the Chicago River, its sleek, stacked columns frequently a highlight of river architecture tours.

Luc whistled. “That’s quite an upgrade.”

“Ya. Condo’s owned by Ram, LLC, but the account manager didn’t know anything about that company. But—get this—both units have been comped. Balthasar’s not paying a thing.”

Luc’s eyes went flat. “Go. Get visual confirmation he’s at the location, follow if he goes anywhere. Keep your distance, and do not approach. Report back if you get a visual, and update on every hour. Take a temp with you, and no heroics.”

“On that,” Juliet said, and Brody followed her out the door.

Ram, LLC, I thought. I’d heard of a lot of LLCs lately, and a lot of three-letter LLCs. Was that really a three-letter word . . . or three-letter acronym?

I pulled out my phone.

“You got something, Sentinel?”

I held up a finger to hold Luc’s inquiry while Jeff answered my call.

“Merit!” Jeff said. “What’s the good word?”

“That’s my question for you. That list of entities Malik gave you—the ones from Navarre House. Can you send that to me?”

“The corporations? Sure. I’ll send it.”

“Thanks. I’ll call you back.” I’d barely hung up the phone when the list came through, eighteen three-letter acronyms that looked more like stock abbreviations than names . . . including RAM, LLC.

My heart began to gallop. “It’s not Ram, LLC, Luc. It’s R-A-M, LLC. It’s one of the companies that Celina gave a limited power of attorney over the House’s investment accounts.” I scanned the list, the accompanying Navarre connection. “In this case, Navarre’s largest investment account.”

The room went silent.

“The Circle owns Balthasar’s condo?” Luc asked quietly. “That’s quite a coincidence.”

“Yeah. It is. Who owned the first one? The one he moved from?”

“Uh,” Luc said, tapping the screen to pull up old data. “Company called Element, LLC.”

One of the temps, a square-shouldered kid with thick, dark hair, equally dark eyes, and a wide smile, spun around in his computer chair. “I’m not sure it’s Element, sir.”

“Merit, this is Keiji the Temp. Keiji the Temp, Merit.” We waved at each other. “Why don’t you think it’s Element?” Luc asked him.

“I don’t think Kelley was saying a word. I think she was saying letters.”

“Letters?”

“L-M-N.”

“L-M-N,” Luc said, playing with the sound. “L-M-N. Damn. How did I miss that? Good call, Keiji the Temp.”

Keiji nodded, smiled knowingly. “You can leave off the Temp part.”

Luc lifted a shoulder. “I like using titles. It adds to the atmosphere. I’m gonna do it again: Sentinel?”

I nodded, having already checked the list while they enjoyed their pas de deux. “LMN, LLC is on the list. It’s got an interest in one of the House’s real estate trusts.”

Luc frowned, rose from his chair, walked from one end of the Ops Room to the other. “So Balthasar’s stayed in two condos. The first one isn’t good enough, or he’s pissed he gets made by us, so he asks for the second one. Both of them are owned by companies that have, over the course of time, managed to get their hands in Celina’s kitty.”

I grimaced, and Luc stopped short, shook his head, considered what he’d just said. “No, undo that. Delete it. Just pretend I didn’t say it.” He glanced back at me. “That’s quite a link, Sentinel.”

“Yeah, but to what, really? The LLCs were created by the Circle. Balthasar has apparently stayed in two condos owned by those LLCs, and therefore by the Circle. It’s a coincidence, I’ll grant you, but what does it tell us?”

Luc took a seat at the table, lowered his voice. “They could have sent him here. They could have found him, dug him up from his safe house, sent him here.”

“Why?” I asked.

Luc shrugged. “The Circle’s mostly got Navarre. Maybe they want Cadogan, too. This would be a helluva way to get there.”

Helen appeared in the doorway. “Morgan is here.”

Luc nodded. “We’ll be up in a moment.” When she disappeared, he glanced back at me. “This could get really, really ugly.”

That seemed inevitable.

*   *   *

Morgan, in his usual jeans and T-shirt, sat in one of the leather chairs in Ethan’s office. Ethan and Malik chatted quietly in the corner, and they looked up when we entered.

“A moment, Sire?” Luc asked, gesturing them into the hallway.