“She made me sign the transfer papers, Allison,” she said.

“I didn’t know what it was for at first, I swear.”

I looked at General Vance.

Vance nodded once, his jaw set hard.

“Show us,” I said to Julianne.

I released her arm and gestured toward the double doors.

We walked down the long, carpeted hallway.

Our footsteps were silent on the thick Persian runner.

Behind us, I heard the heavy, uneven steps of Grant and Patricia.

Two counterintelligence agents followed close behind them.

The air in the hallway was cold, smelling of old wax and damp Georgia air from the open front door.

Julianne stopped in front of the mahogany doors of the study.

She reached out with a trembling hand and turned the brass knob.

The door swung open with a soft groan.

The study was dark, the heavy velvet drapes drawn tight against the afternoon sun.

I reached out and flipped the wall switch.

The crystal chandelier overhead flickered, then bathed the room in a warm, amber light.

The room was lined with leather-bound books and heavy oak shelving.