“So sweet,” Violet mouths to Natasha, who blushes.
“Let’s go to the office,” Julian says, leading us all through the new space to his private office. He sits behind his desk and fires up his computer, then points to the monitor on the wall as it comes to life. “I’ll share my screen there. Violet, you’ll want to pay attention to this.”
My girl frowns and then walks over to stand near the monitor. Julian taps his keyboard, and a still shot from a video comes up on the screen.
“I’ve been running facial rec through every program available across the country,” he begins, “using the photos you gave us of your sister. I know that she’d have aged a little since you last saw her, but she was an adult at the time she went missing, so the software wouldn’t have a problem identifying her.”
Violet turns and blinks at Julian. “You’ve been doing this for the past week?”
“Yes, there are a lot of cameras in this country, and I only went back six months. Now, look up there and don’t blink or you’ll miss it. I’ll put it on a loop for you.”
He taps the keys again, and I stand behind Violet, watching as the video starts to roll. It’s footage from what looks like a party, and a couple strolls by. The woman turns her face, and Violet gasps.
“That’s Rose.”
She reaches up and touches the screen, as if she can touch her sister, and it makes the heart I would have sworn I didn’t have hurt for her.
“Oh my God, when was this?”
“Three months ago, at a party in LA,” Julian replies. “Hosted by Kenji Tanaka.”
I spin and stare at Julian. “You’re fucking kidding.”
“I’m not.”
“The head of the yakuza?”
“What’s that?” Violet asks.
“The Japanese Mafia,” Julian replies to Violet and nods at me, his eyes hard. “The same one.”
Violet goes back to staring at the screen. “Who is this guy?”
She points at the man on Rose’s left.
“I don’t recognize him,” I say.
“The software says his name is Jeremy Lincoln,” Julian replies. “He’s a businessman, and he’s now on our fucking radar.”
He turns his attention back to the computer, and then the image changes, and this time it’s a little grainier, but it’s the same two people.
Rose’s hair is down, and she’s in a sweater and jeans. Lincoln is in a suit, and he’s holding her hand, but she’s walking a step behind him as he talks on the phone.
“Where was this?” I ask.
“Outside of the private-aircraft terminal in LA two days after the party I just showed you.”
“So, she’s not in LA anymore,” Violet murmurs. She’s staring at the screen, her hands shaking, and she swallows hard. “God, she’s alive.”
“There’s more,” Julian says, and with the flick of his fingers, another video comes up. This time, the image is crystal clear, and Rose and Lincoln are on a red carpet, facing another couple. Lincoln is talking. Rose is quiet, her eyes cast down.
And Violet gasps.
“Her lip is split,” she whispers, leaning in to look closer. “That motherfucker hit my baby sister.”
Natasha approaches Violet from the other side and takes her free hand.
“You two look so much alike,” Natasha says softly. “You could be twins.”
