The phone on Clara Doran’s desk rang once before she picked it up.

She didn’t greet. Didn’t breathe. Just waited.

“Pier’s secure,” the voice reported. “Hale’s down. No sign of the woman yet.”

Her eyes flicked to the clock — 12:47 a.m.

“Define ‘down,’” she said flatly.

A pause. “Unresponsive. Fell into the water after the shot. We’re confirming.”

Clara leaned back in her chair, exhaling through her nose. “Confirm it quickly. I want eyes on the body before ...