Vincent left at seven in the morning.
Raven heard the car from the second floor. She didn't go to the window. She heard the engine, the sound the gate made when it opened for him, and then the quiet that settled back into the house like water filling a space.
She went back to the Nakamura file.
It was solid work, thorough. She had built a complete picture of the family's council activity over the past fourteen months, cross-referenced against the known Caruso financial channels Lucian had been tracking, and she had found three points of intersection that had no innocent explanation. Whatever Alessandro had on Nakamura, it was financial. It was specific and it had been cultivated long enough that Nakamura would have difficulty walking it back even if they wanted to.
She filed the three pages she'd marked and set them apart from the rest. Vincent would want those first.
She noted the time. Eight-forty.
