"Getting me to testify before Knox's infrastructure leverage makes it pointless," Ivy clarified. "Isn't that the real objective?"
The words hung between them, weighted with everything unsaid. Julia resumedassembly, the click of metal against metal punctuating the silence.
"I'll need to establish secure protocols," she said finally. "Routes, contingencies, extraction plans."
Not explicit agreement, but Ivy recognized the shift. The wall between them hadn't fallen, but a door had appeared, professional respect creating a passage where emotional connection had failed.
"I've already mapped the priority targets," Ivy said, turning back to her laptop. "We expose the infrastructure-adjacent properties first, create immediate regulatory scrutiny, then work our way toward the core financial operations."
Julia holstered her weapon. "I'll contact Morgan and arrange secure transport to Lavender's."
"So we're doing this?" Ivy asked, ensuring clarity.
Julia's expression remained guarded, but determination had replaced refusal. "We're considering tactical options that include controlled offensive measures against Knox's infrastructure acquisition plan."
A smile tugged at Ivy's mouth. "Always the professional."
"Professional is what keeps us alive." Julia moved toward the bedroom to gather equipment. At the doorway, she paused. "For the record, I still don't like it."
"Noted, Detective." Ivy turned back to her financial maps, satisfaction warming her voice. "You don't have to like it. You just have to help me execute it."
Julia disappeared into the bedroom, but the rigid line of her shoulders had softened fractionally. The wall between them remained, but now it had a purpose beyond emotional distance—a strategic foundation from which to launch their counterattack.
Outside the apartment windows, Phoenix Ridge continued its morning rhythm, unaware of the battle being planned within its boundaries. Somewhere across the city, Vincent Knox believed himself in control of the hunt.
That was about to change.
Lavender's Café smelled of fresh pastries, espresso, and subtle notes of its namesake flower. Under normal circumstances, Ivy might have appreciated the warm lighting and carefully cultivated atmosphere of casual sophistication. Today, she barely registered the main space as Julia guided her through it with a hand hovering near her lower back—not quite touching, but close enough to direct her movements.
"Back room," Julia murmured, steering her toward a heavy purple door nearly camouflaged in the Victorian building's ornate wallpaper.
The café's patrons paid them little attention—women gathered in easy conversation over steaming mugs, a few reading alone, others typing on laptops. The Heights district had always been Phoenix Ridge's center of lesbian community life, the café its unofficial headquarters. In any other context, Ivy might have lingered, intrigued by this glimpse into a cultural cornerstone she'd never properly explored during her years in the city.
The purple door opened as they approached, revealing Lavender's tall figure,her silver hair catching the light. The same evaluating eyes Ivy remembered from their earlier meeting assessed them quickly before she ushered them inside.
"Right on time," Lavender said, locking the door behind them. "Morgan's got everything ready."
Unlike the cozy café beyond, the back room was command central disguised as vintage storage. Exposed brick walls supported steel shelving filled with café supplies and what appeared to be antique record collections. But the central table held cutting-edge tech: multiple encrypted laptops, satellite uplinks, and communication equipment Ivy recognized from federal operations she'd consulted on.
Morgan Rivers looked up from one of the computers, her practical braid swinging as she nodded in greeting. "Dr. Monroe, everything's ready."
Julia conducted a perimeter check, confirming exits and security measures while Ivy took in the setup. The digital footprint here would be invisible to standard surveillance—professional-grade equipmentoperating on networks separate from commercial providers.
"You've been busy," Ivy said to Lavender, noting how the equipment had been arranged exactly as she'd requested.
Lavender shrugged, the gesture practical rather than dismissive. "Diana's kept me in the loop about Knox for years. Any chance to disrupt his operation is worth the effort."
The casual reference to Chief Marten by her first name still struck Ivy. The connections between these women went deeper than professional courtesy; it was a web of trust built outside official hierarchies.
Ivy unzipped her case, extracting the first evidence package. "Let's begin."
While she arranged the documents, Morgan configured the secure system. Lavender moved around them, placing a tray of steaming mugs on the table.
"Same special as last time," she said, setting the violet-tinted liquid beside Ivy. "Still helps with focus."
The warm, herbal scent rose from the tea—lavender underscored by bergamot and that earthy note Ivy still couldn't identify.She took a sip, the flavor grounding her in the midst of their high-stakes operation.
"Phase one targets infrastructure-adjacent properties," Ivy explained, organizing the documents across the table. "We release evidence of Knox's shell companies acquiring strategic positions around the eastern water treatment facility."