It took me three days to find him. I used every resource I had—contacts at the university, former students who now worked in law enforcement, a forensic accountant I had dated briefly and who still owed me a favor. I traced the payments on the fake lease, the utilities, the small expenses that added up to a life. Daniel had been careful, but not careful enough. He had used a bank account in the name of a shell company, and that company had a registered agent, and that agent had an address.
The address was a warehouse on the north side of the city, in an industrial district that had been abandoned for years. I went there on a Thursday evening, as the sun was setting, and I parked my car two blocks away.
I didn't know what I would find. I only knew I had to look.
The warehouse was dark, b
