The doorbell rings again.
Marcus gives a small, tight smile. “That would be the rest of our team.”
I open the door to find Rhonda with a professional camera bag and a photographer. Behind them stands a woman in a county jacket holding a clipboard.
“Adult Protective Services,” the woman says, showing her badge. “We received a report of possible abuse and financial exploitation at this address. I’m here to conduct an investigation.”
Sloan makes a strangled sound. “This is harassment! We’ll sue for—”
“Ma’am, if you interfere with an investigation, that’s a separate violation,” Marcus cuts in smoothly. “Your best option is to cooperate fully.”
Rhonda steps inside, her expression softening briefly when she sees my bruised face, then hardening as she turns toward the kitchen.
“I’m Rhonda Washington, investigative journalist with the Columbus Dispatch,” she says clearly. “I’m working on a series about financial exploitation and abuse in affluent suburbs. Anyone here want to make a statement for the record?”
