living room.
Violent flashes of red and blue light began to sweep across the walls.
The sirens had gone silent, but the police cruisers’ light bars were blinding.
Richard froze.
His glass of scotch halted halfway to his lips.
Diane shot to her feet so abruptly she knocked over a side table.
Harper’s phone slipped from her hands and landed on the rug.
“Richard,” Diane whispered, her voice captured perfectly by the hidden microphone. “Richard, what is that?”
“Don’t move,” Richard ordered, his usual authority cracking into raw panic.
But
