The Hotel Room

"He saw the car," Elena said. "Did he recognize the rental?"

Kai didn't answer. He just tightened his grip on the wheel, his knuckles white in the dim light of the dashboard. The truck was rattling, pushing seventy on a road built for fifty, the snow swirling in the headlights like television static.

"If we pull over," Kai said, his voice low, "and it's not the Feds, we're done."

"And if we don't pull over, and it *is* the Feds, we're felons," Elena countered.

The sedan behind them flashed its lights. Blue and red. Not standard police strobes. Federal strobes. Hidden in the grille.

"It's real," Kai said. "Damn it."

He eased off the gas. The truck shuddered as it slowed, pulling onto the shoulder of the empty highway. The sedan pulled in behind them, blindingly bright.

"Phone," Kai said, shoving his device under the seat. "Hide it. If they confiscate it, we lose the stream."

Elena shoved the burner phone deep into her coat pocket, next to the mailbox key. She sat up straight, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird.

The driver of the sedan got out. He walked toward the truck, his hand resting casually near his hip. He wasn't wearing a uniform. He was wearing a suit that cost more than Kai's truck.

He tapped on the window.

Kai rolled it down. A blast of freezing air filled the cab.

"License and registration," the man said. His voice was flat, professional.

"What's the problem, officer?" Kai asked, handing over his wallet.

"Agent," the man corrected. "Agent Miller. FBI." He flashed the badge again. "We have a report of a vehicle matching this description involved in a disturbance in Greenwich."

"We're just driving," Kai said.

"From Greenwich?"

"From New Haven," Elena lied. "We got lost."

Agent Miller looked past Kai, his eyes locking onto Elena. He stared at her for a long moment, his gaze clinical, assessing.

"Mrs. Vance?" he asked.

Elena froze. "Yes."

"Step out of the vehicle, please."

"Why?" Kai demanded.

"Step out of the vehicle."

Elena opened the door. She climbed down into the snow, her legs shaking. The wind whipped her hair across her face.

Agent Miller led her to the back of the truck, away from Kai.

"You've had a busy night, Elena," he said, his voice dropping.

"I didn't kidnap him," Elena said, the words spilling out. "He's my son. They stole my embryos."

Miller held up a hand. "I'm not here about the baby."

Elena blinked. "What?"

"I'm here about the money," Miller said. "Specifically, the six hundred thousand dollars a year flowing from the Hawthorne trust to a shell company in New Zealand."

Elena stared at him. "Julian."

"We've been watching the Hawthornes for two years," Miller said. "Tax evasion. Money laundering. Wire fraud. But we needed a trigger event to get a warrant for the physical assets. The servers."

"I have the servers," Elena whispered. "I have the footage."

Miller's eyes sharpened. "Where?"

"It's safe," she said. "On a cloud backup."

"Good," Miller said. "Because your husband just filed a restraining order against you. And he's petitioning for emergency custody of the estate, claiming you're mentally incompetent."

"He can't," Elena said.

"He can if you're arrested for kidnapping," Miller said. "Which is what the Greenwich police are about to do. They're five minutes out."

Elena looked down the road. She could see the faint glow of sirens in the distance.

"You have to help me," she said.

"I can't stop the local PD," Miller said. "But I can offer you a deal."

"What deal?"

"You give us the drive. You testify. You help us bury Marcus and Seraphina Hawthorne. And in exchange, we put you in protective custody. Tonight."

"What about Kai?"

"He goes home. He stays out of it."

"No," Elena said. "He stays with me."

Miller sighed. He looked at the approaching sirens.

"Fine. But we leave now. Before the locals get here."

He opened the back door of the sedan.

"Get in."

Elena looked at Kai, still sitting in the truck. She waved him over.

They climbed into the back of the FBI sedan just as the Greenwich police cruisers roared past, lights blazing, heading for the empty truck.

Miller got in the driver's seat. He turned off the strobes. He pulled onto the highway, merging seamlessly into the sparse traffic.

"Where are we going?" Elena asked.

"A safe house," Miller said. "In the city."

Elena leaned back against the seat. The leather was cold. She closed her eyes, exhaustion washing over her.

She was safe. The FBI had her back.

But as they drove, a thought nagged at her.

Miller knew about Julian. He knew about the money.

But how did he know her name?

Kai hadn't given it to him. And the BOLO was for the rental car, not the truck.

She opened her eyes. She looked at the back of Miller's head.

"Agent Miller?" she asked.

"Yeah?"

"How did you find us?"

Miller glanced in the rearview mirror. His eyes met hers.

"We were tracking the phone," he said. "The burner."

"Which one?"

"The one you bought at the gas station," Miller said.

Elena felt the blood drain from her face.

She hadn't bought a burner at the gas station. She had bought it at the superstore.

She had told no one about the gas station stop except Kai.

And Kai hadn't told anyone.

She looked at Kai. He was asleep, his head resting against the window.

She looked back at Miller.

"I didn't buy a phone at the gas station," she said.

Miller didn't answer. He just smiled.

It wasn't a nice smile.

And then she saw it.

On the passenger seat next to him.

A bottle of water. *San Pellegrino.*

The same brand she had seen in the pantry. The same brand Seraphina drank.

Miller wasn't FBI.

He was the cleaner.

Elena looked at the door handle. No lock. Child safety engaged.

She was trapped.

And she was heading straight back to the family.

She felt a wave of nausea, hot and violent. She doubled over, clutching her stomach.

She wasn't infertile. She was sick from the poison of them.