The photograph showed Noah leaving kindergarten three days earlier. Someone had drawn a red circle around him, and when I turned the picture over, four words had been written neatly across the back.

“YOU STILL OWE US.”

I immediately locked every door and sent Mara a picture of what I’d received. She called me within seconds, and the change in her voice brought back the same fear I had heard during her midnight warning fourteen months earlier.

“What happened?”

After I explained where I’d found the photograph, Mara became quiet.

“Do not leave the house.”

“Mara…”

“I’m coming.”

She arrived less than two hours later with Special Agent Daniel Reeves, an investigator who had worked Owen’s case. Reeves studied the photograph on my kitchen table before explaining that investigators believed Owen had hidden money before his arrest, and although they believed I knew nothing about it, someone connected to his network apparently disagreed.

“We think Owen hid money before his arrest.”

“I don’t know anything about money.”

“We believe that. But someone else doesn’t.”

Mara reminded me that Victor Hale had never revealed all of his contacts. Although Victor remained in prison, Reeves warned that incarceration didn’t necessarily sever the connections of an organized network.

Noah suddenly ran into the kitchen carrying a crayon drawing, completely unaware of the conversation taking place around him. I forced myself to smile while he proudly showed me his dinosaur, but Reeves watched him for several seconds before turning back toward me.

“You and your son need protective surveillance immediately.”

That night, two unmarked FBI vehicles parked outside our home while Noah happily decided they belonged to “secret spies.” I let him enjoy that explanation because the truth was far less comforting.

At 2:13 the next morning, our security alarm began screaming.