She was in the process of explaining the law—knowing that Hope would read between the lines and get rid of the little piece of metal that could directly connect her to Lopez’s physical injuries—when they both froze at the sound of a car pulling into the driveway, followed by the slamming of car doors.

Lindsay recognized Detective Carter Decker as one of four men approaching the front door. “It’s police,” she whispered, even as she whisked Hope’s keychain from the coffee table. She did not mention the sheet of paper that Decker had clutched in his right hand. Ninety percent odds it was a warrant.

Her Audi was in the driveway, and any number of people could have seen her walk into the house only minutes earlier. If she didn’t answer the door, it would look incriminating. Lindsay quickly scanned the room and gestured for Hope to move to an armchair in the far corner of the living room, out of sight of the front porch. If she was wrong about the warrant, she could buy them time.

“No matter what happens, you say nothing, okay?” She slid Hope’s key ring onto her own and dropped it into her purse, along with Alex Lopez’s phone, then slipped her own cell into her back pocket. “Answer no questions. Offer no explanations. The only English you speak is that you’re not talking without the consent of your lawyer. You got it?”

Hope nodded, her eyes filled with fear. Ninety percent odds it was a warrant, which meant only ten percent odds of the encounter ending without an arrest. “No matter what,” she said once again. “Even if they bring you in.”

Hope blinked rapidly, but nodded again. If anything, the warning seemed to calm her. She now knew what she was facing.

Lindsay managed to get to the front door before the police knocked. She opened it a customary distance. “Detective Decker,” she said.

“Ms. Kelly.” He held up the sheet of paper in his hands. “We have a warrant to search these premises.”

She took it from him and did a quick scan: i’s dotted, t’s crossed. As she expected.

“That’s fine. You should know that my client, Hope Miller, is seated in a chair directly to my right. She is unarmed and ready to—”

“What the fuck, Lindsay—” Carter shook his head.

“She came here seeking legal advice after seeing that publicity stunt you pulled. She had every intention of contacting you but wanted to make sure she had a lawyer with her, since you have obviously jumped to some very mistaken conclusions. I’m going to ask her to slowly rise and walk toward us—”

“Save it for a courtroom,” he said. He pushed the door open and stepped inside, and his three fellow officers—all in uniform—followed. Two of them drew their weapons. Hope cowered, raising her hands in the air on instinct.