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"So we're assuming Tyler fled," Lucas said. "That's logical. I doubt the killer would take him out of the hotel. Too risky. He's always killed on-site before. He's not likely to change his methods now."
Benicio's cell phone rang. After a few clipped words, he hung up. "Tyler's been found." He saw my expression and added, "He's alive."
"Was he chased?" I said. "If he was, then the killer could still be in the area--"
"He's not," Cassandra said. "He's moved on."
"What?"
The barest eye-roll, as if her conclusion was so simple it shouldn't require an explanation. "He's a hunter. He strikes at the easy targets. When they're no longer easy, he finds another."
"So you think he chased Tyler--" I began.
"The moment the boy escaped, your killer abandoned him. As Lucas said, he kills on-site. He'll hang a girl in a tree or drape a boy over a car, but that's only for outrage value. He's a hunter. He kills them where he finds them, and he kills efficiently. When that other attack was interrupted, he left the boy alive rather than risk discovery. He's not about to chase this young man through the streets of Miami."
"By moved on, you mean--" I looked at Lucas. "To another member of a central family. That's what Esus said. With Joey Nast, he reached the top level, and he'll stay there now."
Cassandra nodded. "Anything else would be a regression. However, with each step he takes, he makes it more difficult for himself. He'll need to take advantage of every possible moment when security might be lax, such as--"
"Such as when the Cabals believe the killer is stalking another victim. When they're all out searching for him. Lucas? Who are the other teens? Are there any in your family? Nephews--"
"I have an eleven-and a twelve-year-old grandson," Benicio said. "Hector's boys. I tripled their guard as soon as Griffin's son was killed, and I've moved them to a secure location outside of Miami. As for others, Lionel St. Cloud has one boy, Stephen. He's eighteen. Then there are a few more teenage Nast grandsons, and Frank Boyd has several nephews around Tyler's age."
"Stephen St. Cloud," Lucas said. "He's already hit the Nasts. If he can't get to a Cortez, he'll go for a St. Cloud."
"I'll call Lionel--"
"Where are they staying?" Lucas asked.
Benicio hesitated, finger poised over his phone keypad. "The Fairfield over in South Beach. Just wait while I--"
We were already out the door.
"Why the hell didn't you tell us what you were thinking?" I said, twisting in my seat to glare at Cassandra as Lucas pulled away from the hotel parking lot.
"But I did."
"You knew the killer had moved on the moment you saw that Tyler had escaped, but you said nothing. Then, when you did bother to tell us he'd moved on, you had to be prodded to explain what you meant by that. This isn't a game, Cassandra."
"Isn't it?" she said. "Your killer might disagree."
"You know what I mean. You should have told us immediately, warned us--"
"So you'd have left a few minutes earlier? I intended to explain myself, Paige. I simply didn't see the need to rush."
"You--"
Lucas glanced over, telling me to ignore Cassandra, but I couldn't.
"A young man might be dead and you didn't see the need to rush!"
Her green eyes met mine, sculpted eyebrows arching. "Well, if he's dead, there's certainly no reason to hurry, is there? If you mean that you might have saved him had I told you sooner, I can hardly imagine that sixty seconds would make a difference one way or the other. Yes, a young man is in danger. Yes, he might die. Tragic, but certainly nothing that doesn't happen every hour of every day."
"Oh, well, then that makes it okay."
"I didn't say it did, Paige. I was merely pointing out that death is a tragedy but, ultimately, an unavoidable one. You can't save everyone, as difficult as that may be for you to accept."
"I'm not--" I snapped my jaw shut, swallowed the rest of the sentence, and forced myself to face the windshield again.
