I walked quickly toward the garage.

The air smelled of wet asphalt and salt from the nearby harbor.

I unlocked my car and climbed inside.

The engine roared to life.

I checked the rearview mirror as I backed out.

The headlights of the black sedan across the street flickered on.

They were following me.

I turned onto Beacon Street, driving fast through the puddles.

The water splashed against the windshield in heavy sheets.

I dialed Marcus’s number on the speakerphone.

It rang three times before he answered.

“Adrian?” Marcus said.

“I am on my way to your office,” I said.

“Celeste knows.”

There was a brief pause on the line.

“What does she know?” Marcus asked.

“Everything,” I said.

“She has photos of me in Maine.”

“She has the lab order.”

“And she has the financial records linking my mother to Mercer.”

“She is going to leak them if I move forward,” I said.

“Adrian, listen to me,” Marcus said.

“You need to be careful.”

“She can ruin the firm.”

“I know,” I said.

“But I need to know the truth first.”

“Are the results ready?”