My phone buzzed again in my hand.

I looked down at the screen.

A new message appeared from the same unknown number.

I read the words, and my chest tightened.

The heavy wooden double doors of the boardroom began to swing open.

The doors opened fully.

Six men and women in dark blue windbreakers stepped into the boardroom.

The yellow letters across their backs read *FBI*.

Behind them, two more officers in tactical gear stood guard at the entrance.

The lead agent, a tall woman with her gray hair pulled into a tight bun, held a leather folder.

She didn’t look at the local police officer who was still holding Patricia’s arm.

She looked straight at Patricia.

“Patricia Voss?” the lead agent asked.

Her voice was flat and carried no emotion.

Patricia pulled her arm away from the local officer, trying to smooth her designer jacket.

“What is the meaning of this?” Patricia demanded.

“This is a private corporate office.”

The agent opened the folder and held up a sheet of paper.

“Federal search and seizure warrant,” the agent said.