The Knock at the Glass
Three loud, deliberate raps pounded against the heavy front door.
Nora walked calmly to the entryway, switching on the overhead porch light. Through the beveled glass pane, she saw a man in a heavy yellow rain slicker over a dark wool suit.
She opened the interior wooden door, leaving the iron security latch engaged. "Can I help you?"
The man smiled—a tight, professional expression that didn't reach his cold gray eyes. "Good evening, ma'am. I’m Investigator Cole from the State Department of Child Welfare. We received an emergency dispatch regarding two runaways reported in this sector following a vehicular accident."
"At midnight during a flash flood?" Nora asked evenly, her posture relaxed against the doorframe. "You state officials certainly work overtime."
"Child safety doesn't follow business hours, ma'am," Cole replied, his gaze darting past her shoulder into the dark hallway. "We traced the children’s footprints along the road toward your gate. If you have them inside, it is a felony under state code to harbor minors involved in an active custodial retrieval."
"I haven't seen any children, Mr. Cole," Nora lied smoothly. "Just the rain and the wind."
May you like
Cole’s smile vanished. He stepped closer, his heavy hand resting flat against the glass door. "Mrs. Gable, let's not make this complicated. The Linwood family owes a substantial financial debt to our legal clients. The mother is incapacitated. Hand over the girl and the infant, and there will be no legal repercussions for your property."
"This is private property, Mr. Cole," Nora said, her voice dropping into a register of icy authority. "You have no warrant, no badge, and no authority here. The County Sheriff is ten minutes out on the ridge road. If your vehicle is still in my driveway when his cruisers arrive, he’ll be impounding it for criminal trespass."
