The windshield fractured farther.
A small hole opened near the passenger side.
Fragments scattered across the dashboard.
Maya’s breathing changed.
Her father’s car.
Ridiculous.
Impractical.
His.
For one second she was no longer FBI Director.
She was Arthur Williams’s daughter watching strangers destroy the last thing he had ever bought just because they thought they could.
Anger became almost physical.
Keller leaned toward her ear.
“Still want to tell us how law works?”
Maya closed her eyes.
One breath.
Then another.
When she opened them, her voice was quiet.
“You should stop.”
Doss laughed.
“Or what?”
She looked directly at him.
“You should stop before this becomes much larger than you understand.”
Keller yanked her upright.
“Threatening officers?”
“No.”
“Sounded like it.”
“It was advice.”
He turned her.
Now Maya stood with her back against the damaged hood.
Keller faced her.
Doss beside him.
“Here's what happens.”
Keller said.
“You tell us where the vehicle came from.”
“I already did.”
“No.”
“You tell us the real story.”
Maya stared.
“What story would satisfy you?”
Doss grinned.
“Boyfriend?”
“No.”
“Sugar daddy?”
Maya’s face went still.
Keller laughed.
“Maybe divorce.”
“Rich ex-husband?”
“No.”
“You expect us to believe you bought an eight-hundred-thousand-dollar car?”
Maya looked at him.
“I expect you to verify registration instead of inventing explanations for why I cannot own it.”
The words landed.
Doss’s expression changed.
Keller stepped closer.
“There you go.”
“There what is?”
“You want to make this about race.”
Maya almost laughed at the absurdity.
“I have not mentioned race once.”
“You don't need to.”
“No.”
She nodded slightly.
“Apparently you are thinking about it enough for both of us.”
Doss shoved her shoulder.
“Watch your mouth.”
Maya caught the hood.
This time pain shot through her wrist.
She inhaled sharply.
Keller grabbed her arm.
“Cuff her.”
Doss reached for restraints.
Maya’s coat shifted.
The government phone became accessible near her hip.
One press.
Two.
Three.
A tiny vibration acknowledged the signal.
No sound.
No visible alert.
Somewhere several miles away, a federal agent’s dashboard would turn red.
Keller did not notice.
Doss snapped one cuff around Maya’s right wrist.
Before securing the second, a vehicle appeared around the bend.
Black SUV.
Fast.
Keller glanced toward it.
“Keep moving.”
he muttered.
The SUV did not.
A second appeared behind it.
Then a third.