She screamed that Russell was her accomplice, but the officers walked her out to a waiting car. Russell was left alone among the scattered cash and the family portraits on the floor.

He believed that was the bottom of his fall. He was wrong.

Chapter 8 — A Pink Shoe

That afternoon Phoebe had a checkup at a private clinic in Baltimore. I wanted to go quietly, without a heavy escort, so I brought only two plainclothes security drivers.

It was a dangerous mistake.

As our vehicle turned onto a quiet side street, a construction truck pulled out to block the lane while two vans boxed us in from behind. Smoke canisters rolled under the SUV, filling the air with gray fumes.

“Mommy!” Phoebe screamed.