But Olivia knew better.
Beneath the ordinary appearance of the city was a network of relationships that had remained hidden for years.
People with money.
People with power.
People who believed that the law was something they could purchase, manipulate, or destroy.
And somewhere inside that network was someone who had decided that Olivia Bennett had become too dangerous.
Her phone vibrated again.
Another message.
This time, there was an attachment.
She opened it.
The photograph showed her apartment building.
It had been taken less than five minutes earlier.
Walker immediately glanced at the screen.
"Olivia, don't go home."
She looked at him.
"I wasn't planning to."
Then she noticed something in the photograph.
A man stood near the entrance of her building, partially hidden behind a parked vehicle.
He was wearing a dark jacket.
His face was barely visible.
But she recognized the watch on his wrist.
It belonged to Deputy Chief Robert Harlan.
At 12:18 a.m., Olivia and Walker arrived at the federal field office.
The building was almost empty, but several investigators were still working inside.
Walker led her to a secure conference room.
"Before we do anything else, we need to determine whether your apartment has been compromised."
Olivia placed the folder on the table.
"Assume everything has been compromised."
Walker nodded.
He contacted the security team and requested an immediate review of her building's surveillance footage.
Meanwhile, Olivia began organizing the evidence from the nightclub.
She wrote down the timeline.
9:12 p.m. — Arrival at nightclub.
9:34 p.m. — Officers entered.
9:37 p.m. — Physical contact initiated.
9:41 p.m. — Captain Mitchell arrived.
9:48 p.m. — Harlan identified as the source of instructions.
10:02 p.m. — Threatening message received.
She stopped writing.
Something was missing.
The officers had arrived only twenty minutes after she entered the establishment.
That meant someone had been tracking her movements.
But how?
She hadn't posted her location online.
She hadn't told anyone outside her immediate circle where she would be spending the evening.
Only three people knew.
Her assistant, Rachel.
Her brother, Daniel.
And her former colleague, Assistant Director Michael Grant.
Olivia stared at the names.
One of them might have accidentally revealed her location.
Or one of them might have deliberately betrayed her.
The thought was painful.
She had trusted all three.
A knock sounded at the door.
Walker entered carrying a tablet.
"We've got something."
He placed it in front of her.
The screen displayed security footage from the nightclub's rear parking area.
A dark SUV had been parked across the street for nearly forty minutes.
Its headlights were off.
The driver remained inside.
Then, at 9:28 p.m., the vehicle's rear passenger door opened.
A man stepped out.
He walked toward the nightclub entrance, stopped beside a telephone pole, and appeared to make a call.
The footage wasn't clear enough to identify his face.
But the next camera angle captured something more important.
The man entered a nearby convenience store.
He purchased a bottle of water.
And when he handed the cashier his money, the camera clearly captured the identification card clipped to his belt.
Walker zoomed in.
Olivia leaned toward the screen.
The name was visible.
Ethan Cole.
She recognized it immediately.
Ethan Cole was a detective who had been listed as a witness in the investigation against Harlan.
He had disappeared six weeks earlier.
His family had reported him missing.
The department had claimed he had resigned voluntarily.
But Olivia knew that wasn't true.
Because three days before his disappearance, Ethan had sent her a message.
It contained only one sentence.
If anything happens to me, look inside the old evidence room.
Olivia looked at Walker.
"Find him."
"We've been trying."
"No. I mean find him tonight."
Walker shook his head.
"Olivia, we don't know whether he's involved."
She pointed at the screen.
"Then we need to find out."
Walker examined the photograph again.
"There may be another problem."
"What?"
He enlarged the image.
The convenience store clock showed 9:31 p.m.
But the man had entered the nightclub's rear parking area at 9:28 p.m.
That meant he had been near the officers before they approached her.
And he had made a phone call.
Olivia slowly sat back.
"Someone was coordinating the entire operation."
Walker nodded.
"That's what it looks like."
She looked at the photograph of Harlan again.
Then she remembered the seven words in the threatening message.
Stop investigating Harlan if you want to live.
But perhaps the message wasn't intended to frighten her into abandoning the case.
Perhaps it was intended to make her believe Harlan was the only person responsible.