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as sick as all that?"

Cori turned toward her partner. In her eyes was a flash of horror. Finn saw that look when a case hit too close to home, when a woman was mistreated and powerless to control her own destiny. Being doomed to exist in a world of a sick man's making frightened Cori most of all.

"Remember, Cori, she entered into this agreement of her own free will," Finn said. "That doesn't make it right, but I promise we'll find whoever is responsible. It won't happen to anyone else."

Finn held up a piece of paper he had brought with him.

"They found DNA on the piece of clothing from the dumpster. Sweat stains under the arms where the water hadn't reached. It wasn't washed in a machine. They've identified the DNA as a woman's."

"The victim's?" Cori asked.

"No," Finn said. "We'll want swabs from all the women at the party."

"I'll call them," Cori said. "Bev may refuse."

"They all may," Finn said. "And won't that be telling?"

Cori's eyes flickered to his other hand. Between his thumb and forefinger was a flash drive.

"And that?"

"Roxana's life."

24

"And I thought cyber techs were lazy. Shame on me," Cori said.

"The tech told me it was a matter of course to back up the drive. Like making a copy of a report," Finn said. "She said it wasn't hard to get in to the computer. Roxana was not as sophisticated as we believed."

"We should tell the captain," Cori said.

"I stopped in to do just that, but she's left for the day." "I'll tell her in the morning. I think she'll agree that a case can be made for splitting hairs. If they are calling a little garden house separate from the main property, we can make a distinction between the hardware and the content it held."

"Bring on the popcorn."

Cori settled into a conference room chair while Finn did the honors. Roxana's desktop appeared on the big screen at the front of the room.

"Lord have mercy," Cori breathed as the tiny files popped up on the screen for a full ten seconds. "That girl was busy."

Finn grinned and clicked on the top left file folder. Three hours later pizza boxes, soda cans, water bottles, paper, Post-Its, and pens littered the table. Cori and Finn had scrolled through correspondence, financial information, pictures, and videos. Within the first hour they decided to focus on one thing at a time. Sponsorships were the current topic.

"What's our count on companies keeping our girl in clover? " Finn asked.

"Twelve so far. L'Oreal, Revlon, Wet 'N Wild, Stila, Sephora, Bite, to name a few," Cori said.

"I had no idea there were so many things women could put on themselves," Finn said.

"That's because you lived with a woman who didn't need all that stuff. Next time you're at my place I'll show you my stash," she said.

"I'm thinking I'll pass, Cori."

Finn put his back to the screen and one hand to his neck, rotating and stretching to get the kinks out. He and Cori had run through fifty of Roxana's tutorials. She was mesmerizing to watch. Her face, skin, and hair were flawless; her movements naturally sensual. They were more convinced than ever that the attack was one of passion and regret as the ME had suggested. Who could not regret destroying something so lovely? The evening was getting on and there was still much to do.

"Okay, let's start adding it up," Finn said.

"Roxana pulled in five hundred and fifty-five thousand a year from L'Oreal. That includes advertising and new product roll out. Then it drops to three seventy five for Sephora, and a hundred and fifty thousand for Stila. According to the contracts, Stila is in for another fifty K each time they do a new product roll out." Cori did a quick accounting. "Right now we're looking at a total of fifty to a hundred thousand a year just from Stila.  Advertising spots and product placement look to be at a different rate."

"What's the difference between the two?" Finn said.

"The jars and bottles on her bathtub or on her sink? That's a placement. She doesn't have to say a word about it, just position the label so it can be seen."

"'Tis a sweet deal," Finn said.

"Someone sees the magic. Not me." Cori said as her partner came to look at the figures she was adding up. "So what is she looking at for a year?"

"Almost a million-one a year."

"She's got a personal appearance agent, too." Cori scrolled through and found the email she wanted. "He's pitching her at twenty-five thousand. For that she walks into a party, waves, has a drink, and walks out with five figures. I think twenty-five is on the lower end for something like this."

"I'm not seeing the AIing Inc. deal as enough to shut down her work."

Finn sat across from Cori. Her hands were on the table, her fingers entwined. She had grown quiet and thoughtful. She opened her mouth to speak, thought better of it, and then decided to say what was on her mind.

"Do you think it could be love, O'Brien?"

"Cori," Finn said, and shook his head. "Seriously?"

"Think about it. We've got a draw on the money. She's doing great on her own. Her family's rich. She's been a bad girl all her life. What if she fell hard ass in love, and is giving it all up for some guy." Cori smiled, opened her hands, and shrugged her shoulders. "It happens. It might be a thrill this girl never had before. Maybe she was all in for love and money."

"I won't discount it," Finn said. "It might be as you say. Bev left for love of money. She sold her soul to Jeremiah Stotler, did his bidding, protected him. Perhaps love is not a bridge too far."

"But which man?" Cori said. "I doubt Enver has that kind of money. And if he does, how does he keep this arrangement from his wife if he's going to house her upstairs?"

"Maybe Emi is the one paying for

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