“She Ran From an Abusive Cop—Then the Most Feared Mob Boss in Boston Saw Her Bruises”

By nine in the morning, Harper was a criminal on television.

The picture was from her driver's license. Beneath it, a news anchor described her as a "person of interest" in the disappearance of cash from a police evidence room.

"That's insane," Harper said.

Rebecca didn't look surprised. "It's strategy."

"They beat me, frame me, and call it strategy?"

"I didn't say it was legal."

Noah stood in the doorway, pale.

Harper shut off the television.

"Hey. Don't watch that."

"Are you going to jail?"

She pulled him close. "No."

She had no idea if that was true.

Gabriel entered with a folder.

"The warrant was signed by Judge Mills twenty minutes ago."

Rebecca cursed.

Harper looked at Gabriel. "So what now? I hide in one of your houses forever?"

"No."

"Good. Because I'm done hiding."

Gabriel studied her.

"What do you want?"

"I want to turn myself in to someone Derek doesn't control."

Rebecca nodded slowly. "Federal public corruption unit. I know an assistant U.S. attorney named Lena Ortiz."

Gabriel's expression darkened. "Federal buildings have cameras, schedules, procedures. Wade can predict them."

"Then we don't use a federal building," Rebecca said.

Two hours later, Harper rode in an unmarked SUV toward a private law office in Cambridge. Rebecca sat beside her. Gabriel followed in another vehicle despite Harper telling him not to.

"Why is he coming?" she asked.

Rebecca smiled without humor. "Because telling Gabriel Ashford not to do something is mostly ceremonial."

A delivery van pulled beside them.

Rebecca looked up.

"That's too close."

The van door slid open.

A masked man raised a pistol.

Harper dropped.

Their driver accelerated through the red light as bullets hit the side panel.

"Stay down!"

Behind them, Gabriel's SUV rammed the delivery van hard enough to spin it into a parked car.

Harper heard brakes, shouting, then one more shot.