They had Cortez under fluorescent lights by 9:04 AM.

No tie. No lawyer. Just a thin sheen of sweat slicking his brow and that smug calm some men wear like armor. But that was fine Darryl and Amara had time. And they had questions.

He sat back in the chair; ankles crossed like he owned the damn precinct.

“You know why you’re here,” Darryl said flatly, dropping a manila folder on the table hard enough to make Cortez blink. Inside were photos Sarah Miller, the rose, the alley.

“I see a dead woman,” Cortez said.

“You see your mess,” Amara shot back. “You left her in pieces. But you were careful enough to wear gloves. Not careful enough to bleed on a flower.”

Cortez didn’t flinch, but Darryl caught the twitch in his cheek. A tell.

“DNA doesn’t lie, Raphael. You were there,” Darryl said, low and even.

Cortez leaned forward just slightly. “You know I clean things up. That’s not the same as pulling the trigger.”

“Then tell us who does,” Amara said. “Because right now, that silence? It makes you look like an accomplice to murder. Multiple counts.”

Cortez sat back again. “I don’t give names.”

“You already did,” Darryl replied, tossing another photo on the table Bianca Payne, security footage still. “This is Bianca. She’s not dead yet.”

Cortez’s jaw tensed, but he said nothing.

Amara leaned in. “That’s the difference. She’s still out there. Breathing. Which means if she dies now your face goes on the paperwork. Your DNA goes on the murder weapon.”

Cortez’s fingers tapped the metal table.

Darryl lowered his voice. “You help us find her; you might walk with reduced time. Stay quiet? You go down with the guy who thinks you’re disposable.”

The silence stretched.

Then Cortez exhaled slowly. “You won’t find him by looking at Martel.”

Amara blinked. “So, Martel’s not pulling the strings?”

“He funds the operation. But he doesn’t run it,” Cortez said, voice lower now. “You want the ghost? You follow the girls. And you follow the art.”

Darryl stared at him. “What does that mean?”

Cortez smiled, but it wasn’t smug anymore. It was tired. “You’ll see.”