Memphis was getting closer. He was exhausted. He’d been stuck in the car for hours, crawling up the A1. Seventeen hours to make a two-hour drive. He nearly cheered when he saw the signs for the A9. He was almost home.

His cell phone had died after the message from Maddee. He’d turned it off for a bit, let it build up a tiny charge. Then he’d put in a call to Pen, heard just enough about what had happened after he rushed out of the prison.

She was going to be the toast of London tonight—she’d used the information Madison gave them about the house on Baker Street to solve the case. She’d stormed it with a team. All three girls were found, in various states of disarray, held against their will by the enigmatic Urq. But alive. Roger Waterstone had been arrested.

Pen was jubilant. He’d been right to let her take over the case. She needed a few wins under her kilt to get the right attention from the commanders. He was happy for her, and happy his gut had been wrong for once.

He just hoped it was still wrong now.