"Move your car," a heavy voice ordered as a crowbar slammed the Ferrari's hood. "Excuse me?" Maggie Li slid her sunglasses down and stared at the man who'd just put a dent through a thirty-thousand-dollar logo. "Now," the leader said. He had a voice that expected obedience. His hand flexed on the crowbar. Two others circled like vultures, eyes on the bag in the passenger seat—Milo's backpack with a gaming console and a half-eaten sandwich sticking out. Haven's hand was a blur on the dashboard. "Mags, leave it. Leave it and run. Call the office—" "Run?" Maggie closed the door with a sound like a final decision. "These are tiny men trying to be large. I'm not the one who needs to move." "You're joking." The leader laughed and took another swing at the hood for emphasis. "That's not funny." The woman in the passenger seat pointed a shaky voice at Maggie. "Give us the bag or we make you give it." "Walk away," Maggie said to the bag, as if it were a nervous dog. She put one hand on the top of the seat and the other on Haven's arm. "Milo will survive without his sandwich." Haven's eyes were wide. "Maggie, please—" "Hands in your pockets," the leader barked at her. "Now." A man stepped closer, smelling of cheap cologne and cigarette smoke. His palm went for Haven's bag. Maggie moved before she thought