He opened the folder with a flourish.
A gold badge, a typed order, a seal at the bottom.
Greiss almost bowed.
“Agent Rainey, thank goodness you’re here.”
“We’ve been tracking these children since this afternoon,” Rainey said. “The Marlowe children. Their mother is deceased. We’re here to take them into protective custody.”
Josie’s fingers dug into Lauren’s palm.
Lauren did not flinch.
She studied the man the way she once studied rooftops.
Shoes, hands, jacket, eyes behind the glass.
His jacket pulled tight across the left shoulder.
A holster.
His shoes were polished, but the heels were worn on the outside edge.
The walk of a man who spent years on his toes.
His badge had no serial number.
The eagle on the seal was facing the wrong way.
The lamination was already peeling at one corner.
Then she saw the paper itself.
No judge’s signature, no court stamp, no docket number.
