Gordon called back within the hour. “Eleanor, the pouch is in your bag, and a tip has already been logged under an anonymous number. Do not move anything. A team is on the way to your house.” My hands tightened on the phone. Down the hall, a door opened, and soft footsteps stopped outside my room. Courtney whispered, “Eleanor? Are you awake?” I closed my eyes and lay still again.

The door creaked, and she stepped inside, holding a small flashlight. She crept to the suitcase, checked the zipper, and exhaled with relief. Then headlights swept across the ceiling, and two unmarked cars stopped in the driveway. Courtney froze, her face white in the glow. I opened my eyes, sat up slowly, and said, “Good morning, Courtney. I believe you have something to explain.”