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     My team and I walked through the airport in New York City with low morale and even lower hopes.

      We boarded the plane that was headed to Los Angeles. As the plane lifted off from the ground, I found my mind going to Damien Hunt's call earlier.

      "Cabolso's escaped," Hunt had said, sounding frustrated. "She was taken back to her cell where the same group that had caused the explosion broke her out."

      "I don't-"

      "Wait. That's not all. Katerina Cabolso was not the only murderer we've been searching for. A billionaire was just found murdered in his home twenty minutes ago. Cabolso couldn't have done it because it occurred at the same time she was being broken out."

The cold feeling of dread had settled over me. "Where was it?"

"Los Angeles, California." Home.

So we'd been sent to the sunny city of LA to investigate yet another murder. Unless this attacker had been trying to get caught, like Cabolso, I guessed that it wouldn't be as easy to find this person. And that was assuming that there was only one person we were searching for.

When we arrived in Los Angeles about seven hours later, I was partially expecting to feel a surge of relief to be back home, even for just a day. But I was surprised to feel nothing.

      The slain man had lived on a reclusive mansion on the top of a hill, overlooking the Pacific Ocean. Police cars lined the road to get up to the house, so we were forced to walk part of the way up.

      At the top, the modern-looking house was swarmed with frowning cops and reporters trying to get the newest and best story of the murder of the famous billionaire.

      I was imagining that it would be even more difficult that it was at the Spanish park to get beyond the yellow caution tape due to the surplus of police officers. But apparently, Hunt had alerted them about our arrival, because they simply asked a few questions for confirmation and easily let us through.

      I led the way past the numerous police officers and crime investigators on the front driveway and into the house. I crossed the threshold slowly, remembering the mansion back in Spain, as if I was expecting someone to scare me. This was no longer just a house, it was the place where a man had been brutally killed.

"We should spread out and look everywhere," Finn suggested, looking around himself at the surrounding house.

We obliged, and I wandered the modern house, occasionally running into a cop or crime scene investigator on my search. I looked everywhere I could think of for some sort of a clue, but found nothing.

As I went back to retrace my steps to the front door, I found the rest of my team there, all gathered together.

"I asked if I could see the security camera footage," Kane informed me. "I saw it, but it didn't give anything away. One second, the dude was sitting there, and the next thing it showed was him dead on the floor."

"So whoever shot him must have jacked up the security cameras," Riley put in, looking thoughtful.

I turned to see for the first time the large gathering of people talking and investigating in the sitting room off of the hall we were standing in. Judging by their faces and searching eyes, this was the room that he'd died in.

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