Chapter 2 - Nothing. I already did it.
Federal agents flooded the ballroom in dark jackets.
Guests scattered away from tables.
One woman dropped her champagne.
Another screamed when two agents blocked the hallway toward Arthur’s private office.
Special Agent Harris entered last.
Calm.
Measured.
Exactly the way he had been every time I met him in parking garages and coffee shops over the previous nine months.
His eyes found me on the floor.
Then my stomach.
Then Julian.
Something hardened in his expression.
But he did not abandon the warrant to play hero.
Procedure first.
Always.
“Arthur Vance?”
Arthur stared at him.
“You have any idea whose property you’ve entered?”
Harris placed a federal search warrant onto the ruined gift table.
“Yes.”
Arthur’s face twitched.
“Then you know I’ll destroy your career.”
Harris almost smiled.
“You can discuss that with counsel.”
Agents moved toward Arthur’s study.
Beatrice shouted:
“No one enters that office!”
Two agents ignored her.
Chloe released Julian’s arm.
She moved toward the side exit.
Blocked.
Julian finally looked at me.
Not with concern.
Realization.
“You.”
I slowly sat up.
Rachel came beside me.
“You did this?”
Julian’s voice climbed.
“You fucking did this!”
Harris turned.
“Mr. Vance, lower your voice.”
Julian stepped toward me.
Hospital instincts should have made someone stop him immediately.
Instead, Chloe grabbed his sleeve.
“Jules.”
Her voice was shaking.
The mistress who had strutted into my home fifteen minutes earlier suddenly wanted invisibility.
Arthur looked from Harris to me.
“What did she tell you?”
Harris answered:
“Enough.”
That was not entirely true.
I had given him thousands of pages.
But the strongest evidence had come from somewhere else.
Someone inside Arthur’s company had been feeding federal investigators records long before I contacted them.
I still didn’t know who.
Arthur assumed it was me.
Good.
Then Harris surprised everyone.
He looked at Julian.
“But the company isn’t why we’re really here.”
My smile disappeared.
Julian froze.
“What?”
An agent entered carrying a sealed evidence bag.
Inside was something metallic.
Small.
Dark.
Impossible to identify from where I sat.
Harris looked at Arthur.
Arthur’s face drained of color.
Beatrice whispered:
“No.”
I stared at her.
She recognized it.
“What is that?” Julian demanded.
Nobody answered.
Harris looked toward me.
“Mrs. Vance, you need medical attention.”
“I’m fine.”
“You were knocked down at eight months pregnant.”
Julian snapped:
“She fell.”
Harris’s eyes shifted toward him.
Several guests had phones raised.
Video existed.
Witnesses existed.
Julian saw that too late.
Then Arthur pointed at the evidence bag.
“Where did you find that?”
Harris did not answer.
Arthur stepped backward.
And whispered something that made my skin go cold.
“That was buried with Thomas.”
I had never heard the name Thomas before.
But Beatrice had.
May you like
So had Julian.
Because the moment his father said it, Julian stopped yelling.
