“Mr. Steel,” the man said. “I am Detective Miller. We have a warrant to secure this premises.”

Ryker didn’t move.

“You’re too late, Detective,” Ryker said calmly.

The federal agent stepped between Ryker and the detective.

“This is a federal crime scene now,” the agent said. “A kidnapping attempt just occurred on this property.”

Detective Miller looked at the broken glass on the floor, then at the handcuffed gunman on the terrace.

He frowned, his eyes darting to Ryker’s laptop.

“We still need to take statement from everyone,” Miller said.

“Talk to my attorney,” Ryker said, gesturing toward the door.

He didn’t wait for a response.

Ryker walked past the officers and headed down the long hallway toward the private wing of the house.

I followed him closely, our footsteps echoing on the hardwood floors.

We reached the heavy oak door of the panic room at the end of the hall.

Ryker typed a code into the keypad on the wall.

The lock clicked, and the heavy door swung open.

Inside, the room was brightly lit and quiet.