“Help you with what?” I asked.

“A deal,” Grant said. “I can get you the encryption keys for the foreign accounts. Everything my mother hid.”

I looked at the dashboard clock.

*00:08:42.*

“You do not have the authority to negotiate, Grant,” I said.

“Please, Allison,” he said, his voice cracking. “Just come back to the house. Let’s talk before the marshals get here.”

I shifted the car into reverse and backed out of the church driveway.

The rain was falling harder now, turning the gray Atlanta morning into a dark, blurred landscape.

I turned the sedan back toward the Monroe estate.

“I am coming back,” I said. “But not for a talk.”

I disconnected the call and dialed Vance.

“The warehouse is a decoy,” I told the general. “Grant confirmed it. I’m returning to your position.”

“Copy that, Colonel,” Vance said. “We have the perimeter secured here. The Escalade has been spotted heading toward the interstate.”

I drove through the quiet streets of Buckhead, the large estates hidden behind stone walls and manicured hedges.

The security gates of the Monroe estate were still open when I arrived.