She winced, her face pale, but she didn’t cry out.

I pulled out my burner phone and dialed Nora’s encrypted number.

She answered on the second ring.

“Madeline,” Nora said, her voice sharp and alert. “Are you safe?”

“We’re out of the house,” I said, looking out the grime-coated window at the empty parking lot. “But Julian’s people were watching. They sent a photo of my car.”

“Don’t go to the local precinct,” Nora said immediately.

“Why?” I asked. “We have enough to file protective orders.”

“I ran a check on the sheriff’s department in your county,” she said. “The sheriff’s brother is on the board of Thorne Logistics. Eleanor Thorne cleared his personal mortgage last year.”

My stomach sank.

“The entire local force is compromised,” I said.

“Yes,” Nora said. “If you walk into that station, Julian will know before you finish booking your statement. They’ll bury the report.”

“Where are you?” I asked.

“I’m ten minutes away,” Nora said. “I have the drives from the state attorney’s database.”

When Nora arrived, she carried a heavy black canvas backpack.