I would have put my money on dear Aunt Rashida except for that whole keeping-an-openmind thing. Trinity made a face when I suggested she ride back to Harper’s condo in the undercover van with us, and I rolled my eyes. “What, you too good to ride in anything but your Porsche now, Nana-nana?” She had the grace to flush and give in, knowing I would give her never-ending piles of grief otherwise. The dashboard clock read four forty-eight by the time we made it back to Harper’s parking garage. Her text had indicated she’d be working until six thirty or seven, so we’d have just enough time to chat with her fiancé before he had to pick her up. Hell, depending on how the conversation went, we might just be able to pick her up on our way to an MCU interrogation room. Not exactly a ride I’d be willing to take in this (or any other) lifetime. The three of us stepped out of the van and headed to the entrance to Harper’s building, only to stop when Scott grabbed my arm and pointed to a Lexus SUV pulling into an empty space a couple dozen feet away.
