He leaned closer across the table.

“I’m going to set up a meeting with Leo,” Adrian whispered. “I’ll tell him I want out. I’ll tell him I’ll hand over the ledgers in exchange for safe passage out of the country.”

“Adrian, he’ll kill you,” I said, my voice rising.

“He’ll try,” Adrian said. “But the FBI will be listening to every word.”

He looked toward the front door as the brass bell jingled again.

A man in a heavy dark coat stepped inside, shaking the snow off his shoulders.

It was Agent Miller.

His face was pale and hard, his eyes scanning the diner before locking onto us.

He walked over to our booth and slid into the seat next to Adrian.

He didn’t offer to shake hands.

He just pulled a manila folder from inside his coat and laid it on the table.

“This is the draft,” Miller said, his voice low. “It guarantees immunity for Claire. It puts her into protective custody tonight.”

I looked at the papers inside the folder.

The words “Department of Justice” and “Non-Prosecution Agreement” stood out in bold letters.