“Promise me, Dakota,” Rand said. “Promise that you won’t get mixed up in this—”

“This thing murdered a friend, attacked another and almost killed me,” I said. “I’m already ‘mixed up’ in this. But I promise I’m not going to throw a monkey wrench in your investigation, Andre. I want you to get this guy. These guys. Whoever it is.”

Rand was silent for a minute. “Fine, Dakota,” he said. “I love you like a daughter, but I promise you that if you stick your nose back into this I will have you up on obstruction charges.”

“Andre—”

“I mean it, Dakota,” Rand said. “Butt. The Hell. Out.”

And he hung up, leaving me and the blue bomb sailing into Midtown in near silence.

More to come…