It was a confirmation of a wire transfer scheduled for tomorrow morning.

The amount was two hundred thousand dollars.

The recipient was an escrow account registered in the Cayman Islands.

The beneficiary was listed as Judge Whitmore’s private charitable foundation.

“Tomorrow,” Dominic said, his voice flat and dangerous.

“That’s the day of the preliminary hearing.”

“The hearing to determine temporary custody of Lucia,” I said.

My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird.

“She is paying him to take my daughter away from me.”

Dominic turned to me, his dark eyes filled with a sudden, desperate heat.

“She won’t,” he said, reaching out to touch my hand, though I pulled back.

“I won’t let her do this.”

“How are you going to stop her, Dominic?” I asked.

“Look at this screen.”

“This is a federal judge.”

“Your mother has the courts, the police, and millions of dollars.”

“We have a laptop in the back of a rented car in the pouring rain.”

Marco looked out the rear window, his hand resting instinctively near his jacket pocket.

“The rain is picking up, sir,” Marco said.