My mistress laughed outside my wife's ICU room and whispered, "She's gone, Vincent. Come home." But nobody had told her my wife was dead. And when the doctor stepped into the hallway, looked straight at me, and said, "Your wife is alive—but someone tried to kill her," I realized the most dangerous threat to my family might have been standing right beside me.

I didn't resist when Detective Ellis ordered me to put my hands where she could see them.

Resistance would have made a better photograph, a better headline, and a better excuse to separate me from Claire.

I had no intention of giving anyone those things.

"You're making a mistake," Gabriel said.

Detective Ellis didn't look at him.

"Step away from your brother."

"The signatures are forged."

"That will be determined by the evidence."

She turned to me.

"Mr. Hale, anything you say from this point forward may be used in court."

I looked at Dr. Porter.

She wouldn't meet my eyes.

That hurt more than the handcuffs.

Not because I trusted her completely, but because Claire had trusted her enough to whisper her name while fighting to remain conscious.

"What is this?" I asked her.

Dr. Porter swallowed.

"I didn't know what the records contained until tonight."

"Your signature is on them."

"I know."

"Then explain."

Detective Ellis interrupted.

"You'll have an opportunity to explain at the station."

The officers escorted me outside.

As they placed me in the back of an unmarked vehicle, I looked through the windshield at the old clinic.

A dark sedan sat across the street.

Its headlights were off.

Someone was watching.

I memorized the license plate.

Then the car pulled away.

At the station, my attorney arrived within twenty minutes.

Daniel Mercer walked into the interview room wearing a charcoal suit and an expression of grave concern.

"Vincent, this is a disaster."

I looked at him through the glass partition.

"Is it?"

"Your wife is in critical condition. Your brother has been implicated in a medical fraud scheme. And now the police believe you've been financing illegal trials."

"Who told them about the trials?"

"Apparently, your wife."

"Then why are you surprised?"

Daniel sat down.

"Because I don't understand why she would involve herself in your business."

I studied him.

There it was again.

The assumption that Claire had no right to examine the world I had built.

"She was trying to stop someone from hurting people."

"Vincent, your wife was an administrative employee at a hospital. She had no idea how complicated these operations can become."

"She was smart enough to find them."

Daniel's expression tightened.

"Be careful."

I leaned forward.

"Are you threatening me?"

"I'm trying to save you."

"Then tell me who authorized the transfers."

He opened a folder.

"Your signatures are on the documents. Gabriel's are on several others. The medical foundation was established through a trust connected to your family."

"And your name?"

He went still.

I smiled without humor.

"That's what I thought."

Daniel closed the folder.

"Listen to me. You need to let the police investigate. Do not contact anyone. Do not interfere."

"Why?"

"Because if you make one wrong move, they'll charge you with obstruction."

He stood.

"I'll handle your legal defense."

"No."

His face changed.

"What?"

"You're fired."

"Vincent—"

"You're no longer my attorney."

He left without another word.

An hour later, Detective Ellis returned.

"The vehicle you described outside the clinic was registered to a company connected to Northstar Clinical," she said.

"Who owns it?"

"The ownership records lead to a holding company. The registered agent is a law firm in Delaware."

"Daniel's firm?"

She looked at me sharply.

"We haven't confirmed that."

"But you suspect it."

"I'm not here to share theories."

She placed a photograph on the table.

It showed a security camera outside St. Anselm. A man in a maintenance uniform was entering the ICU corridor at 1:42 a.m.

The same time Vanessa appeared in the hospital.

"Do you recognize him?"

"No."

"His name is Peter Sloan. He worked for your family security company until six months ago."

I stared at the photograph.

"I fired him for stealing patient information from a private clinic."

"Did you report it?"

"No. I paid him to leave quietly."

Detective Ellis folded her arms.

"You see the problem, Mr. Hale? Every time we investigate this case, another person connected to your organization appears."

"Then investigate them."

"We are."

She paused.

"But I need to know why your wife was targeted. The records suggest she was going to expose a medical operation that involved falsified prescriptions and unauthorized drug transfers. There may be other victims."

"How many?"

"We don't know."

I looked at the photograph again.

"Then find them."

Detective Ellis studied me.

For the first time, I thought she might believe I wasn't responsible for Claire's poisoning.

Before she could respond, her phone rang.

She listened, then stood abruptly.

"What do you mean, she's missing?"

My blood turned to ice.

"Who?"

Detective Ellis looked at me.