Z

The federal agents arrived while Gabriel was making eggs.

Harper stared through the penthouse windows at six black vehicles pulling into the underground entrance.

“Popular morning.”

Gabriel did not turn from the stove.

Marco entered the kitchen.

“Warrant.”

Harper looked at him.

“For what?”

“Questioning related to Robert Voss.”

Gabriel placed eggs on a plate.

“Questioning does not require six vehicles.”

Dominic arrived thirty seconds later without knocking.

That alone told Harper how serious it was.

“Gabriel.”

“I know.”

“They have a material-witness detention order and search authorization.”

Harper stared.

“Based on that video?”

“No.”

Dominic’s expression was grim.

“They found Gabriel’s DNA in Voss’s car.”

Silence.

Harper looked at her husband.

Gabriel’s face did not change.

“When?”

“Blood.”

“I have never been inside Robert Voss’s car.”

“I know.”

“How much?”

“Enough.”

Harper’s stomach tightened.

Someone had planted it.

Obviously.

But obvious and provable were different.

Gabriel turned off the stove.

“Who signed the order?”

Dominic hesitated.

That was bad.

“Judge Elena March.”

Gabriel frowned.

Harper did too.

March had no known Vale connection.

She had a reputation for being independent.

Dominic continued.

“The request came from a special federal investigative team.”

“Donovan?” Harper asked.

“No.”

“Who?”

Dominic looked directly at her.

“Senator Harlan pushed Justice to appoint one last night.”

Claire’s father.

Of course.

The elevator opened.

Agents entered with weapons holstered but visible.

Harper recognized the lead investigator.

Special Agent Lena Cho.

She had worked parts of the Vale case.

Good.

Maybe.

Cho stopped several feet away.

“Mr. Rossi.”

Gabriel nodded.

“Agent.”

“I need you to come with us.”

“Am I under arrest?”

“Temporary detention pending questioning.”

Dominic stepped forward.

“My client will cooperate.”

Gabriel looked at Harper.

She hated that look.

Not fear.

Calculation.

He was planning how to protect her while leaving.

“No.”

His eyebrow lifted.

“What?”

“Whatever speech is happening behind your face, don’t.”

Cho glanced between them.

Gabriel almost smiled.

Harper stepped closer.

“You answer questions.”

“Yes.”

“You don’t threaten anyone.”

He looked offended.

“I am extremely disciplined.”

Dominic coughed.

Harper continued.

“You do not decide I’m safer without information.”

His expression became serious.

“I won’t.”

“Promise.”

“Harper.”

“Promise.”

He looked at her.

Then nodded.

“I promise.”

Cho allowed him to leave without handcuffs.

Harper appreciated that.

Gabriel hated being appreciated for not being handcuffed.

She could tell.

The agents searched the penthouse.

Every office.

Every drawer.

Every digital device authorized by the warrant.

Harper stayed.

Not because she distrusted Cho.

Because this was her home too.

At ten seventeen, an agent entered Gabriel’s closet carrying a sealed plastic container.

Harper stopped breathing.

Cho took it.

Inside was a small blood-collection vial.

Label removed.

Empty.

Dominic closed his eyes.

Harper stared.

“That wasn’t there.”

Cho looked at her.

“Mrs. Rossi.”

“It wasn’t.”

“I understand what you’re saying.”

“No.”

Harper stepped closer.

“You understand the sentence. I need you to understand the fact.”

Cho remained calm.

“Do you recognize the vial?”

“No.”

“Does Mr. Rossi receive medical treatment?”

Harper’s eyes narrowed.

“Everyone receives medical treatment.”

“Blood work?”

Then Harper stopped.

Gabriel had undergone routine tests four months earlier.

Dr. Bell.

No.

Her stomach dropped.

Cho saw her reaction.

“What?”

Harper turned toward Marco.

“Bell.”

He immediately understood.

“The house break-in.”

Dr. Bell’s home had been searched.

His records stolen.

Medical samples?

Marco called Bell.

No answer.

Again.

Nothing.

Harper looked at Cho.

“Someone had access to Gabriel’s medical records.”

“That is relevant.”

“Someone drugged Dr. Bell and destroyed his home.”

Cho’s expression sharpened.

“When?”

“You weren’t told?”

“No.”

Dominic stepped forward.

“It was reported.”

“To Chicago police?”

“Yes.”

Cho turned to one of her agents.

“Get the report.”

Harper stared.

If federal investigators had not been informed, information was being compartmentalized.

Someone wanted agencies blind to one another.

She had seen that before.

Power survived in gaps.

By noon, Gabriel remained in federal custody.

Not charged.

Not released.

Monroe House donors kept calling.

Claire refused to return home.

Ben asked whether his father was coming.

Rachel Bell remained missing.

Robert Voss was dead.

And Harper’s husband was being framed for murder.

Emily entered the penthouse carrying sandwiches.

“You have not eaten.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Rosa said if I came back with untouched food, she’d move in.”

Harper took half a sandwich.

“She already has a key.”

“Yes.”

“Threatening.”

Emily sat.

For several minutes, neither spoke.

Then Emily said, “You think Gabriel can handle himself.”

“Yes.”

“But?”

Harper looked toward the city.

“I hate how familiar this feels.”

“What?”

“Men creating chaos until women start reacting instead of thinking.”

Emily nodded slowly.

“What are you thinking?”

Harper picked up the photograph from Claire’s documents.

Michael.

Rachel.

Sophie.

Then another.

Nolan Voss standing beside Michael at a campaign event.

“Nolan lost his father yesterday.”

“Yes.”

“He hasn’t made a statement.”

“Maybe grief.”

“Maybe.”

Harper opened the news app.

Michael Donovan had issued three statements.

Senator Harlan two.

Nolan none.

A man who controlled messaging for a living was completely silent during the largest scandal of his career.

That did not fit.

Harper called Dominic.

He answered from the federal building.

“How is Gabriel?”

“Angry.”

“Useful angry?”

“Debatable.”

“I need something.”

“Always comforting.”

“Where is Nolan Voss?”

Silence.

“I don’t know.”

“Find him.”

“I’m representing your detained husband.”

“Multitask.”

“Marriage has made you both worse.”

Harper hung up.

Thirty minutes later, Marco entered.

“Nolan’s house is empty.”

“Office?”

“Empty.”

“Phone?”

“Off.”

“Car?”

“Found at O’Hare.”

Harper stood.

“He ran.”

“Looks like it.”

“No.”

Marco frowned.

“What?”

“Nolan Voss does not panic.”

“You know him?”

“No.”

“I’ve read everything about him.”

Harper walked toward the table.

“He manages emergencies. That’s his entire career.”

Emily understood.

“So he didn’t run.”

“He wants us to think he did.”

Marco’s phone buzzed.

He looked down.

His face changed.

“What?”

“Dr. Bell.”

Harper’s heart jumped.

“Found?”

Marco nodded.

“Where?”

“A motel near Joliet.”

“Alive?”

“Yes.”

Relief barely arrived before Marco continued.

“He wasn’t hiding.”

Harper frowned.

“What does that mean?”

“He was held.”

“By who?”

“Bell says a woman helped him escape.”

Harper stared.

“What woman?”

Marco turned the phone.

A motel security image showed an exhausted woman in a hooded sweatshirt helping Dr. Bell through a side door.

Harper knew the face from the photographs.

Rachel Bell.

“She’s alive.”

Marco nodded.

“And she’s asking for you.”