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I woke to the sound of Code muttering in the other room. I’d bet my bottom dollar he was in front of his monitors again. I tuned him out and concentrated on the sunlight streaming through the suite's windows, painting golden stripes across the rumpled sheets. I stretched, every muscle pleasantly sore, and found him sitting at his makeshift command center fully dressed, three monitors glowing.

"What time is it?" My voice came out rough.

"Eight-thirty." He called out from the front room. "You needed sleep."

"So did you."

"I got four hours. I'm fine."

I pulled on his t-shirt from last night and padded out the bedroom door. Coffee sat waiting in the coffee pot. I poured a cup and studied him over the rim. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, but something had shifted in his posture. He sat forward, intent, hunting.

"You found something."

"Maybe."

I walked around beside him so I could see the photos he pulled up on his screen. "Facial recognition hit from last night. Instagram posts from a party in Hollywood."

Russell Dunlap appeared in the background of candid shots. Always moving, always partially obscured, but definitely him. In two photos, he stood close to a blonde woman in a black dress. Their body language screamed intimacy and distress.

"Who's the woman?"

Code zoomed in on her face. Pretty, late twenties, with the kind of bone structure that photographed well. She looked upset in both shots, with her hand on Russell's arm like she was pleading.

"Do you recognize her?"

I studied the image. Something tickled the back of my mind, but I couldn't place her. "Maybe? Shit, Code, I've seen so many faces at auditions and parties, she could be anyone."

"Her name is Sophie Tremaine." Code pulled up an IMDb page. "Actress. Based in Los Angeles. Twenty-eight years old."

My stomach dropped. "Please don't tell me she's another target."

"She's his stepsister."

The coffee cup froze halfway to my lips. "What?"

"Russell's father married Sophie's mother when Sophie was six. Russell was twelve." Code scrolled through the family tree he'd constructed. "Different last names, which is why it didn't show up in earlier searches. But the connection is solid."

“So his sister is an actress."

Code nodded. "One who's struggled to break through.” Code's voice stayed level, factual. "Bit parts, recurring roles, one co-starring credit that got cancelled. She's been working for twelve years with nothing big to show for it."

The implications settled over me like ice water. Fuck. Please say I wasn’t right. My hands shook as I found my phone. Jerry picked up on the second ring.

"Kit, thank God. I've been trying to reach you for days. Where the hell are you?"

"Doesn't matter. I need you to do something for me." I looked at Sophie's photo. "Can you access the casting notes for Passing Through Jordan? I need to know if someone named Sophie Tremaine auditioned for my role."

"That's unusual. Why?"

"Just do it, Jerry. Please."

He sighed. "Give me twenty minutes."

I hung up and found Code watching me.

"While we're waiting," he said quietly, "let me show you what else I found."