(Noah)
Cam had been at the laptop for six straight hours when he finally looked up.
"I've got it down to one," he said.
I crossed the room and looked at the screen.
The address was on the east side, a commercial property off a side street that didn't appear in any of Vega's known contact records directly. It had come up through a chain of three shell accounts that Cam had spent the better part of the night and morning pulling apart layer by layer. The kind of trail that was designed to look like nothing until someone with enough time and enough patience followed it all the way to the end.
Cam had followed it.
"How confident?" I asked.
"As confident as I can be without putting eyes on it," he said. "Two of the shell accounts have a prior connection to a property Vega used in Savannah
