“Call it in,” Harrison told his head of security. “Police, now. He doesn’t leave this garage except in a cruiser.” He set his hand lightly at my back.

“You don’t have to watch this.”

But I did watch—long enough to be sure. Not out of revenge. I needed the proof, in my own eyes, that the man I’d feared for seven years had only ever been powerful when I was alone and unprepared.

On the floor, with witnesses and cameras and the law finally in the room, he was just a cornered man who’d run out of victims.

The police took him minutes later. Harrison walked me to my car. “The air in here is foul,” he said. “Let’s go.”

The first snow of winter fell outside the federal courthouse. Inside, the gavel came down.