Buck watched the city speed past beyond the taxi window. So much had happened in recent days. All at once he felt both closer than ever to the truth of Sam’s death—and further away than he’d ever been. He'd exhausted his leads. The Cremation Killer was Fixer, but knowing who didn’t tell him where. Aethercorp had been a disastrous diversion. The Glittering Starlight Lounge—Goldie’s one safe haven—had been sacrificed in his pursuit for answers. Then there was Sparks. The one he'd been chasing this entire time, who turned out to have nothing to do with that night at all.

  He needed to start over. Go back to the beginning. Re-walk the steps. Re-ask the questions.

  That meant starting with Angus.

  The taxi let him off beside the freight yard in The Stairs. Enormous cranes groaned overhead, moving crates back and forth among the carved terraces. Buck pulled his coat tight against the chill surface wind. Angus Bullock directed one of the cranes with practiced gestures, shouting to be heard over the machinery. Only when the payload settled into place did Buck step forward. The minotaur killed the engine on the crane and wiped his brow with a grease-stained sleeve. "Buck! Been a while. What can I do for you?"

  "Need to talk," Buck said. "Someplace quiet."

  Angus led him between two stacks of shipping crates where the noise of the yard faded into a dull rumble. Buck didn’t speak right away and the silence made the minotaur shift his weight uneasily. "Look, if this is about rates going up, I told you—"

  "It’s not that," Buck said. "It’s about the warehouse tip you gave me. I need to know where you got it."

  Angus crossed his arms. "Buck, you know how this works. I give information but no names. Keeps everyone safe that way."

  "It didn’t keep us safe."

  He frowned. "What do you mean ‘us’? You and Sam caught the guy, didn’t you?" He looked around the yard. "Where is Sam anyway—off interviewing another witness?"

  Buck held his eyes. "Angus…Sam’s dead."

  The words hung between them like a gunshot. Angus’s mouth opened, closed. "What?"

  "He died at that warehouse. We both went in. I made it out. He didn't." Buck’s throat tightened, but he forced the rest out. "The only reason we were there is because of that tip."

  Angus staggered back a step as if someone had hit him in the chest. He dropped onto a crate, staring at the ground. "Holy…Buck, I… I swear I didn’t know. I never would’ve passed it along if—"

  "Then help me fix it." Buck crouched in front of him. "I need a name. Whoever fed you that tip wanted us dead. They used you to set the trap."

  Angus dragged a hand over his muzzle. "Okay…okay…but you gotta understand—I was desperate. That warehouse story didn’t come from my cousin. Some guy approached me out here. Said a tabbi was gonna torch the place and that the cops were already sniffing around. He gave me the info…and money. A lot of money. Enough that I didn’t ask questions."

  "What guy?"

  "I don’t—I didn’t recognize him. Older porcupine. Nice suit. Like…real nice shoes. The kind you don’t wear down here unless you’re trying to make a point." Angus swallowed hard. "He scared me,

  Buck. I got a family."

  Buck’s heart hammered. A porcupine in nice shoes…

  "Daniel Zadron," he breathed.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  "Who?"

  Buck stood. "The sixth victim. The one the Cremation Killer burned behind Grenda’s." His mind raced. That wasn’t random. Zadron was involved. Now he was dead. Someone was cleaning up.

  He clasped Angus’s shoulder once. "You did the right thing today. If anyone else comes around with more mysterious ‘tips’—you get in touch."

  Angus nodded in stunned silence, still shaken.

  Buck ran for the exit. Finally, a connection. He headed for the Crier Dispatch. It was about time he made use of Krouri's resources. Following the directions to the newspaper's archives given by the gnome at the front desk, Buck arrived at a monolithic cavern of dust and paper. He called out and spotted a wing waving in the distance. He headed that way, ducking through corridors of filing cabinets until he found her hunched over a stack of documents, beak buried in research.

  "Krouri, what have you been able to find on Daniel Zadron?" Buck asked hurriedly.

  She blinked up at him, feathers ruffled. "Zadron? I’ve been digging into the warehouse, actually." She shoved a sheet of paperwork under his nose. "Check this out. Previous owner—Phillip Markey."

  "The real-estate weasel?"

  "Mm-hm. And guess who bought it one day after the fire?" She slapped another page down. "Pazienza. The transfer paperwork is clean—too clean. Mountains of red tape just brushed aside. Which means money changed hands off the books."

  Buck frowned, scanning the documents. "Markey finds something in that warehouse—then goes to the Don for help."

  "And once Pazienza steps in, everything becomes neat and tidy." Krouri tapped a slim news clipping. "I found this article about the fire. No casualties mentioned. No byline, either. Almost as if someone made sure it would read like a nothing story."

  "The police report said there were signs of a body but estimated they had passed before the fire. That’s why they didn’t list a victim." Buck’s gaze hardened. "Someone wanted it quiet. Paid to have it written this way."

  Krouri’s phone chimed. She glanced at the screen and the feathers of her crest lifted in concern. She held it out for Buck to read.

  Hazelnut: Please come. We need to talk.

  * * *

  Hazelnut sat curled in a lounge chair, hands shaking as she knocked back another shot. The burn barely registered. Poppy hovered nearby while Widget quietly assembled a sandwich in the kitchen. The knock at the door made her flinch—but she exhaled in relief when Krouri rushed in, Buck close behind. Sparks entered last, unusually quiet and distant. Widget set the food down and gently ushered Poppy toward the hall. We’ll check on Iggy.

  Hazelnut reached for the bottle again. Krouri caught her wrist and steadied it. "We’re here now. What happened?"

  Hazelnut drew a shuddering breath. "Okay. No easy way to say this. I broke into Lieutenant Zywrath’s home." She swallowed. "To steal his file on the Cremation Killer."

  "Why?!" Buck and Krouri barked in unison. Hazelnut poured a fresh shot and knocked it back before answering.

  "I got a burner phone. No name, just a single contact—‘V’. They knew everything. About my dad. About the building. They offered enough money to save our home…but only if I stole Zywrath’s file."

  "Did you get the file?" Krouri asked.

  "No. Actually, he caught me."

  Krouri’s beak dropped. "He caught you? He saw past your cloak?"

  Buck shook his head. "And he let you go? That doesn’t sound like Zywrath."

  Hazelnut nodded. "Only because I’m supposed to go back in three days. He wants me to deliver a fake file instead. Feed V some bad intel."

  "Who is V?" Buck demanded.

  Across the room, Sparks’ ear twitched. It didn't go unnoticed. "What?" Buck snapped. "You know something?"

  Sparks didn’t meet his eye. "V only deals in dead-drops. They’ll never show up in person. And yes—I’ve done work for them."

  Buck’s shoulders tensed. "Anything recently?"

  Sparks nodded once. "That day at the diner...I was collecting a drop. I didn't realize it would be so literal."

  Buck's sneer vanished and his gears began to churn. "Zadron. The porcupine. He worked for V." He muttered and begun pacing the room. "He fed Angus the warehouse tip that lured me and Sam there. Then he ends up burned behind Grenda’s… That wasn’t random."

  "He's been backing my work for months now. He's not very happy with my recent relations with you all. You and the reporter specifically. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if there's some backlash for this very gathering."

  "That sounds similar to a conversation I just had with your attorney," Buck said. "I believe his exact words were 'stay away from my client or there will be consequences.'"

  Sparks let a small grin slip as he replied. "Yes, but that's understandable. You are a dick, after all. Pun very much intended."

  Hazelnut let a tiny laugh slip out as Krouri stepped between the boys. "Hey. Focus. We need a plan. We know Fixer is the Cremation Killer. We know V wants Zywrath’s file on him. And we know V is trying to keep us apart."

  "Exactly," Buck agreed. "Which means Fixer comes first. V’s still a problem, but right now he’s hiding behind the chaos. We drag Fixer out, we disrupt the pattern."

  He crossed to the wall and picked up the landline. "Zywrath already strong-armed Hazelnut into helping. Time to give him something better to do." He pulled out the business card the lieutenant had given him. "We’re putting everything on the table."