“We need to get this to the district attorney before they can destroy any more evidence,” I said.

Marisol closed her briefcase and latched it with a loud click.

“I will call Assistant District Attorney Vance’s office the moment we get back to my office,” Marisol said.

“We need to go now,” Sarah said, her voice rising in panic.

She stood up, pulling her wide-brimmed hat lower over her ears.

“Keep the folder,” Sarah said. “Just make sure he never gets near me again.”

She didn’t wait for us to answer.

She walked quickly past the counter, pushed the glass door open, and disappeared into the gray Miami rain.

I looked at the empty space where she had been sitting.

My heart was pounding against my ribs like a trapped bird.

“Elena,” Marisol said, placing a hand on my wrist. “This is the nail in his coffin.”

“It feels like we are walking into a trap,” I said.

“No,” Marisol said. “We are setting the trap.”

We left our cash on the table and hurried out to Marisol’s car.