City of Endless Night

But now—as happened so often—his thoughts returned to the killing of his only daughter…and the filth about her that had been exposed by that motherless ass-fucker of a reporter, Bryce Harriman.

“You and your ‘paucities’ and ‘logical binds,’” Longstreet growled. “It almost got us killed by that recon party of Ugandan mercenaries—remember?”

“Mr. Viktor Alexeievich Bogachyov, I presume?”

“Look, Mr. Ingmar, it’s clear that the Cantucci murder was an inside job—planned and executed by someone who worked for your company and had access to your source code. We’re not going to be happy if you obstruct us.”

Singleton winced, took another sip. “A billionaire vigilante. God save us.” He glanced at D’Agosta. “Any connection to the father’s business interests? You know, kill the daughter to get revenge on the father?”

“Autopsy confirmed she was shot through the heart from behind, remained in an unknown location long enough to bleed out, and was then moved to the garage, where the head was taken about twenty-four hours later. We’ve got a ton of hair, fiber, and latents we’re working through, but I have a feeling none are going to pan out.”