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Julia paused at the door, file tucked under her arm. "Yes, Chief?"

"Watch your back. Knox has eyes everywhere."

With a nod, Julia left the office, the privacy screen deactivating behind her. The bullpen's noise washed over her again, but she barely registered it. Her mind was already three steps ahead, mapping out security protocols and contingency plans.

Julia needed a quiet place to review thefile thoroughly before meeting the witness. She veered away from the exit, heading instead toward the conference rooms at the back of the detective division. She needed to know everything about Dr. Monroe and the case before making contact.

As she walked, she felt the weight of the responsibility settling onto her shoulders. It fit well there, familiar and centering. This was what she was made for: standing between danger and those who needed protection.

She glanced down at the file in her hand. Protective details required absolute focus, and Julia Scott was nothing if not focused.

Whatever complications Dr. Monroe's "strong personality" might present, Julia would handle them. She always did.

Julia claimed an empty conference room in the back of the detective division, closing the door behind her. The small space was utilitarian: white walls, long table, and chairs that prioritized function over comfort. Perfect for focus. She spread the contents of Ivy Monroe's file across the table, arranging them in methodical rows.

Dr. Ivy Monroe, forty-five.

Professional credentials first: PhD in Mathematics from MIT at 24. MBA from Stanford. Second doctorate in Financial Forensics from Berkeley. Published author on modern money laundering techniques. Guest lecturer at Phoenix Ridge University.

"Overachiever," Julia murmured, impressed despite herself.

Case summary next: Monroe had been reviewing investment potential for Harbor Heights Development when she discovered financial irregularities. Rather than simply reporting her findings to her client, she'd dug deeper, eventually uncovering a complex web of shell companies, falsified permits, and bribes disguised as consulting fees. All roads led back to Vincent Knox and the Seraphim Syndicate.

Julia studied the financial diagrams Monroe had created. They were elegant in their complexity—multicolored arrows connecting entities, annotated with transaction dates and amounts. Even with her limited financial knowledge, Julia could appreciate the thoroughness. This wasn't casual whistleblowing; this was methodical, meticulous dismantling of a criminal enterprise.

She flipped to the threat assessment. Office break-in two days ago. Message left: white feather and note reading, "Keep digging and you'll be buried." Classic syndicate intimidation tactics. Knox's enforcers had a reputation for theatrical threats followed by brutal action if the message wasn't heeded.

Julia's jaw tightened. She'd seen the aftermath of such "actions" before.

The door opened, and she glanced up, instantly alert. Detective Morgan Rivers stood in the doorway, two coffee cups in hand.

"Thought you might need a refill," Morgan said, setting one cup at Julia's elbow. "Chief filled me in. I'm your backup on this one."

"What can you tell me about her?" Julia asked, gathering the documents and returning them to the file.

Morgan dropped into a chair across from her. "Haven't met her yet, but I looked over her background check. Impressive résumé. No criminal record, not even a parking ticket. Lives alone, minimal social connections in the city despite being here for three years." She tapped a fingeragainst her own cup. "Seems like a workaholic."

"Takes one to know one," Julia said, the ghost of a smile crossing her face.

Morgan snorted. "Speak for yourself. I have hobbies."

"Stress baking for the department doesn't count as a hobby."

"Says the woman whose apartment looks like no one lives there." Morgan leaned forward, voice dropping. "Listen, there's something else you should know. Word around the department is that Knox has someone on the inside. Nothing confirmed, but?—"

"The chief mentioned the possibility," Julia cut in. "That's why this is compartmentalized. You, me, her. No one else."

Morgan nodded, relieved. "So what's the plan?"

"I'll spend the rest of the day reviewing the file and setting up secure arrangements. You take the first shift with her tonight at the downtown safe house. I'll relieve you tomorrow morning, then we'll move her to a more secure location." Julia glanced at her watch. "The chief said she's already been moved from the hotel?"

"Yeah. Patrol picked her up an hour ago: Rodriguez and Navarro. They should be settling her in now." Morgan rose, stretching. "I'll head over there by six, get her comfortable."

"Keep it tight," Julia said. "No calls on department phones, no standard protocols. Assume everything is compromised."

"Not my first rodeo, Scott." Morgan headed for the door, then paused. "Oh, and Julia? Try to get some sleep tonight. You look like you could use it."

After Morgan left, Julia returned to the file, losing herself in the details of Knox's operation as seen through Ivy Monroe's expert analysis. Hours slipped by, marked only by trips to the coffee pot and the gradual shift of sunlight across the conference room table.