Page 348 of Good Boys Don’t Bite

That landed. Ronan felt it. Elliot understood deliberate. Probably better than anyone in the room. Vance held up the photograph again.

“This was staged.”

Elliot stared.

“The wording. The chair. The wall. Whoever took Claire expected us to analyze it.”

Ronan frowned.

“Us?”

Vance looked at him.

“All of us.”

Then at Elliot.

“But mostly you two.”

The words settled badly. Saint knew Elliot. Knew Ronan. Knew enough about them to turn their relationship into part of the crime scene. Ronan looked at the photograph again. Claire wore jeans and a Bellweather sweatshirt. Her hair was loose around her face. No gag. Interesting.

“She can talk.”

Vance looked at him.

“What?”

“No gag.”

Elliot’s attention sharpened. Ronan pointed.

“If Saint didn’t want her talking, they’d cover her mouth.”

Vance nodded slowly.

“Maybe.”

“Or they want her to say something.”

Elliot looked at him. There. That little shift. He had followed the thought. Vance enlarged the photograph. Claire’s hands. Chair. Wall. Floor. Nothing obvious.

“Could be another video coming,” she said.

Elliot stepped closer. Ronan let him. Not toward the door. Toward the evidence. Good.

“Background.”

Vance looked at him.

“What?”

“The wall.”

White-painted concrete. A thin vertical seam ran behind Claire’s shoulder. Electrical conduit climbed the right side. No windows. Industrial. Ronan leaned closer.

“Basement?”

“Maybe,” Vance said.